Out on Delivery
by Celtic Oak
Summary: In between jobs, Gaara finds himself employed as one of Kankurou's delivery men. The job clearly doesn't hold much appeal but when he finds himself delivering furniture for Dr. Haruno, he realizes it has more perks than he initially contemplated. GaaSaku
1. The Dining Table

After a long absence, I'm back with more of the usual.

Just another arbitrary AU for you as an apology for my lack of writing for a while. This story's already halfway written so I'll be putting up the rest of it soon. Still, I know very well that some of my fics seem to have a penchant for getting out of hand out of their own volition and ending up longer than I'd originally expected.

All in all, I hope you enjoy my newest fall into GaaSaku lunacy.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of the characters of Naruto. This story was written for entertainment purposes only.

* * *

**Chapter I – The dining table**

"You're still in bed?" Kankurou exclaimed on the other side of the line. "I can't believe you! You said you were coming in today."

Sleepy jade eyes tried to blink away the last vestiges of the dream he'd been immersed in before the phone had rung loudly in his ear. There had been glimpses of street lights and cars, as he drove down the road himself during a night out on the town… he couldn't make it out clearly but there had been someone else in the car with him and he'd been having one hell of a good time.

Until his brother had decided to interrupt.

"I'll be there in half an hour," Gaara replied moodily, hanging up the phone before Kankurou could fall into another one of his complaining rampages.

The redhead was doing _him_ a favour, after all. Of course, his older sibling thought it was the other way around, with him having been recently fired and all. Kankurou had offered him a job as part of his furniture delivery team, saying that his little brother could use the cash while he found more decent employment... employment befitting his college degree, which was sitting on top of a bookcase in his living room and accumulating dust at the time being.

Letting his head fall back unto the pillow, Gaara looked at the alarm clock on his bedside table and sighed. Yes, he had overslept. It was 10:30 already and yes, his brother had been right in his attempt to give him a lecture. But that didn't mean the redhead actually gave a crap.

After having majored in business and managed to live through the university experience relatively unscathed, Gaara had found it difficult to find a niche where he could fit within the labour force. Everyone said he had an attitude problem but he begged to differ: it wasn't his fault the majority of people in his field were complete and utter idiots, lacking even the most basic traits of common sense. It was only his obligation to let them know when they were being incompetent retards and informing them they should seek some other way to earn their living where their stupidity wouldn't get in the way.

This duty of putting people out of their misery was precisely what had gotten him fired a few weeks ago. It seemed you weren't allowed to say such things to the upper managers of the investment firm he'd been working at. Idiotic and pompous old men. They all knew that what he'd said was the truth but as was usually the case in the world of business, saying the truth could get your head chopped off… or your ass fired.

The redhead hadn't cared much, taking his things and walking out of the building without looking back. If people weren't willing to face the facts and see things how they really were in an attempt to make their company grow, the company wasn't worth his time.

Of course his siblings had other opinions.

"Not again," both of them had complained simultaneously.

Temari, after a string of punctual and imaginative curses, had tried to be supportive. She'd been the matriarch of their family ever since their father had passed away and they'd had to make a way through life as orphans. But in all honesty, Gaara hadn't been up to her condescending and had cut her speech short. Kankurou, on the other hand, had put out his cigarette and told him he could take on a temporal job at his furniture shop, just like he'd done a few times before.

Realizing very early on that he excelled in carpentry, the tattooed-faced man had specialized in his craft ever since his late teenage years. Starting out by manufacturing wooden puppets and the like, Kankurou soon realized he took on the role as a wood carver as easily as a duck takes to water. After some time, he'd been able to set up his own furniture shop. His original designs were greatly coveted by many interior designers and his clientele was always steady.

This was the reason why he thought he was doing Gaara favour. Ah yes, the older brother lending out a hand to his kid sibling in times of need. Yeah, right. All of them knew very well that he was a bit short of delivery personnel. The redhead had wanted to refuse his offer outright but he realized it was a good opportunity. Having always been physically inclined, Gaara knew he'd need some kind of exercise to cope with the boredom while he found a new job. What better way to do it than hauling heavy furniture all day? He'd been going out to jog and had attended some of Naruto's martial arts classes but this provided a better way to vent… and he'd be getting paid for it. Not much, mind you, but something was better than nothing.

Getting up with a resigned groan, Gaara made his way to the bathroom, intent on taking a quick shower. A few minutes later, he threw on long pair of khaki cargo shorts, put on a pair of trainers and slipped his black and red uniform polo shirt over his head. Kankurou had insisted he wear a uniform just like everyone else; it made him look like part of the team, he'd said. But the redhead knew the real reason behind it was for clients to actually acknowledge him as the delivery guy of the store and not slam their doors in his face. It'd happened a couple of times before, him showing up at a pretentious residence with his unkempt crimson hair, piercing jade orbs, dark rings around his eyes and an angry sneer on his lips. The lady that had opened the door had thought he was a mugger, much to Kankurou's frustration.

Gaara, only recently graduated from high school back then, had thought the whole incident was _hilarious_.

Still, some years later, his brother wasn't capable of putting the episode behind him and to humour him, the redhead agreed to wear the uniform shirt to work.

He poured some milk into a bowl over his high-sugar content cereal and sat down to it eat in the TV room, turning on the news channel and see what the weather forecast was for the day. There'd been some intense summer storms lately and the last thing he wanted was to get caught out in heavy rain while delivering wooden furnishings. Kankurou got excessively annoying if his _creations_ got tainted by even the slightest raindrop. From his intense reactions, Gaara would've thought the damned things would shrink if ducked in water; he'd even thought of leaving one of them out in the rain just to see what happened… and to see the look on his brother's face, naturally.

Grinning at the thought of Kankurou going insane, he was happy to find that the forecast was favourable for the day: a bit of overcast but no rain until late at night.

He placed his finished cereal bowl in the sink, brushed his teeth in a hurry and was out the door in record timing.

_- XXXXXXXX –_

"So glad you finally decided to join us," Kankurou drawled, his eyes narrowing as Gaara stepped into his workshop. "Before you waste any more time, your list of deliveries is on my desk."

With that, he went back to work on the large bookcase he was finishing, carving out the last of the decorations it needed with one of his special chisels. His assistants were all over the place and the sound of metal grating against wood permeated the air. Small specks of sawdust floated around the large room as all of them diligently worked, turning to Kankurou from time to time to ask for his advice.

Gaara simply shrugged, ignoring that strange feeling he got whenever he saw his brother working so passionately on what he liked. When he was younger, the redhead had envied him that sense of purpose, of knowing what it was that he wanted to do and simply going after it. For the redhead, it had never been simple, especially with how lacking he was socially. In the end, he'd chosen to study business because it was the newest trend and there was the possibility of making large amounts of money in the effort. It was never what he'd truly wanted… if he only knew what that was.

Years later, with his degree tucked under his arm, he still didn't know what it was that he wanted from life. Everyone else seemed to have the answer, or it seemed they did, while he simply drifted and changed jobs because he simply couldn't keep his opinions to himself. It was impossible to do so because of his temper. Still, he'd decided some time ago that he wasn't going to worry overly about it. 'You can't stop what's coming your way,' someone had told him once, and something deep inside of him knew it was just so.

Thus, the envy he felt for his brother, a trait that had marked the early years of their tumultuous relationship as siblings, had vanished. Gaara now only wished the best for him… of course, that didn't mean he didn't get on his nerves just for kicks, especially when he was working as one of his delivery men. His brother was so easily riled when it came to his artwork, as he liked to call it. The redhead simply couldn't pass on the opportunity to irritate him and make his skin turn as purple as the tattoos on his face.

Kankurou said he needed to grow up; Gaara countered he needed to stop taking himself so seriously… either that or get laid.

The chisel would usually fly for his head right about then.

The redhead made his way into Kankurou's office down the shop's corridor and picked up the list of things he needed to do today. He needed to pick up some supplies along with some orders of pine, oak and cedar. Afterwards, he needed to deliver some furniture: a night table, a few high stools and a dining room set.

He had his day set out for him.

Picking up the keys of the truck he'd been assigned from the wall, he walked down to the storage room where the completed furnishings were kept. Hopefully, the items he needed to load would already be prepared for hauling. Kankurou made sure that every piece that was delivered was wrapped in plastic and with styrofoam taped around the edges. This would prevent it from suffering any damage during transport. Since he'd slept in this morning, Gaara found all the things he needed to deliver waiting for him and ready to be taken on the truck.

The bedside table and stools weren't much of a problem. He easily moved them towards the platform where he could load them unto the truck. But he had to admit that the round dining table was a bit on the heavy side. The four chairs that came with it were made of the same wood and were relatively weighty as well. Still, it wasn't anything he couldn't handle and he got into the truck so he could back it up towards the loading platform at the back of Kankurou's shop.

After getting everything in and arranged in a way so the pieces didn't bump into each other, he closed the door and locked it. It was close to midday by the time he drove out of the alley at the back of the shop.

Gaara decided he might just take his lunch break now before going out, considering the hour. Chuckling darkly, he knew exactly what his brother would say if he mentioned that to him.

_- XXXXXXXX –_

There really was such a thing as karma and it really wasn't helping with his foul mood.

After starting work late and delaying his tasks, Gaara had ended up having to deliver the bedside table to a chattering old lady who couldn't decide on which side of the bed she wanted the damned thing. After moving it for the fourth time, the redhead was about to tell her what she could do with the table when she suddenly went all quiet-like. She proceeded to inform him, in a teary voice, that she was a widow. Something in his brain malfunctioned at the absurdity of it all when she started telling him her life story and how her dear husband had died some years back.

He always occupied the left side of the bed so she couldn't possibly have the table there. Then again, he would have liked the woodwork on this precious piece, wouldn't he, and so maybe it really should be on the left side.

Developing a permanent eye twitch was imminent and the redhead would've told her a thing or two if she hadn't been close to a hundred years old with one foot in her grave already. She couldn't possibly even begin to lift the freaking bedside table so he'd been forced to do it for her as many times as she wanted until she was finally satisfied.

Before he knew it, he'd spent over an hour doing just that and needless to say, he was fuming when he finally got back in his truck. The aged granny had attempted to apologize for her lack of decisive power by offering tea and cookies but one more minute of her jabbering and _he'd_ be the one in the grave.

Luckily, he'd already picked up the supplies Kankurou needed and had delivered the tall stools to the coffee house that had ordered them. Now, he had only one delivery left and he could call it a day. This was a good thing too since it was nearing 4:30pm already. He'd told Naruto he wanted to drop by for the 6 o'clock aikido lesson; he'd been inclined to try out that martial art for some time and wanted to see what the whole thing was about.

At least the traffic wasn't as bad as he'd expected. Soon he found himself driving down a pleasant enough neighbourhood, with nicely painted houses and mowed lawns. He'd actually looked for a place around this part of the city when he'd finished college but had finally decided to buy a flat closer to the downtown district. Gaara needed more bustle in his life than what this sector had to offer and the last thing he wanted was one of those perfect families with their supposedly adorable children living next door and trying to be all friendly-like with him. He would've most likely ended up hanging the brats by the heels from the nearest tree for their parents to find. Indeed, making the decision to live in an apartment building where no one would bother him had been the right decision.

He finally reached the house where the dining table had to be delivered and backed up the truck into the paved drive. Jumping out, he took the clipboard with the delivery papers on it and made his way to the front door, following a little gravel path. The residence looked nice enough but as he looked through one of the windows, he found it suspiciously empty inside. There was no furniture in sight and there was a distinctive lack of curtains in all the windows. If he'd been sent out on a ghost delivery, someone's ass was going to pay for this. This did nothing to improve his already sour disposition, courtesy of the blabbering granny, and he gritted his teeth as he rang the doorbell.

Much to his relief, he heard footsteps approaching on the other side a few seconds later.

"Coming!" a female voice called out.

The door opened to reveal a streak of short pink hair, partly hidden beneath a bandanna, followed by a dirt smeared face with salient emerald eyes. Even under the grime, her features were comely and the redhead couldn't help his gaze from travelling further down to find an appealingly shaped body in a grey spaghetti-strapped tee and a pair of surf shorts. This, unavoidably, led him to admire her agreeably shaped legs... by the time his eyes came back up to her face he curiously found her surprised emerald eyes blinking up at him.

They stared silently at each other for a few seconds and Gaara found that his awful mood had abruptly evaporated.

"Good afternoon, miss" he said, an arrogant tone in his voice. "I'm here to deliver your dining table."

The woman seemed to come back to her senses. "Oh yes, of course! I've been expecting you," she replied enthusiastically. "Thank goodness you're here! I've been forced to take my meals on a measly camping table."

Her smile was quite disarming and he noticed how it lit up her whole face. His day suddenly seemed to have taken a turn towards improvement.

"Haruno Sakura, right?" he asked, looking her up and down again.

She blushed slightly under his intense jade gaze. "Yes, that's me."

"Could you sign here, please?" Gaara asked as he handed her the clipboard gruffly and turned round to walk back to his truck without waiting for her.

"Sure," she murmured in reply as she let out a long breath, taking the pen in hand and signing the papers.

_- XXXXXXXX –_

Moving out had been a hassle. As much as she wished Ino and Shikamaru the best in their married life, finding a house she could afford and in a decent neighbourhood had been terribly aggravating. She'd been looking for something ever since Ino, her former room mate, had given her the happy news of their planned marriage but it had taken a painstakingly long time to find anything. Nevertheless, she'd found a place just before they returned from their honeymoon and obviously, she'd moved out in a hurry with barely anything inside her new home.

Of course, finding a house was only the beginning… now she had to take the time to furnish it. Naturally, some of the things in their old apartment had been hers but most of them had been hand-me-downs from college. Since she was starting out her new life on her own, Sakura had decided that she finally wanted to have stuff she had chosen and that marked her home as hers. Nothing extravagant, obviously, she just wanted to get something pretty with personality.

So she'd set out to choose some things, even though in the end, she had to accept her mother's offer to donate a set of couches for her living room. They were stylish and Sakura couldn't complain. The problem was that things took a while to be delivered and since she had moved out in a flash, she hadn't had been able to buy them on time for them to be there when she moved in. Thus, she'd been mostly living on the floor and making the best of things.

Finally, things had been starting to show up this week and her house was now starting to look suitable enough to live in. Her fridge and dishwasher had been delivered the day before and today, she would be getting her dining table.

Of course, she hadn't been counting on _who_ would be delivering it.

Delivery men did _not_ look like _that_. As much as you wanted for it to be different, they were always middle-aged men with large bellies who had been wrestlers in their younger days and had been forced to look for another job when they got older. Delivery guys were _not_ amazingly handsome young men with bright jade eyes and deep crimson hair. They did _not_ dress in a hip style and did not sport tattoos on their foreheads. They didn't have haughty attitudes towards their clients and they definitely didn't take your breath away even without throwing anything similar to a smile your way.

It simply _did not_ happen.

'This seems like a scene right out of a cheap and corny romance novel,' Sakura thought in consternation, 'and you're suddenly the main character.'

Of course, this fact didn't stop her from admiring the way his calves flexed when he climbed up unto the back of the truck… not to mention his nicely shaped rear. In that moment, she suddenly became aware of her own dishevelled appearance. She'd taken the day off to clean her house from top to bottom and knew she looked anything but appealing. At least she'd had the sense to tie a bandanna round her head to keep her hair out of her eyes… this kept its dirty and mangy appearance mostly out of view.

'Steady, Haruno, steady' she said to herself. 'He's just a delivery guy. He'll bring your table in and then he'll be gone and you'll never see him again.'

Putting on the sandals she'd left by the door, she walked out into the yard and made her way to the driveway.

"Here are your papers," she said, placing the clipboard inside the truck while keeping her receipt.

He didn't even glance at her and simply continued to pull the plastic wrapped table closer to the edge. When it was almost about to fall off, he jumped back down unto the pavement and moved to haul the table down.

Sakura was about to ask if he wanted some help but he picked it up from its legs and placed it on the driveway. Its girth wasn't too big so he managed to place one hand on either side of it, lifted it up and started walking towards her front door again.

Trying hard not to notice the flexed muscles of his arms, the pink haired girl followed quickly after him. He turned sideways and got the table through the door without mush of a hassle.

"Where do you want it?" he asked curtly once he was inside.

"Over here," she said, moving past him and through an archway.

The house had only one floor and was very clean. The wooden floorboards had been polished and the walls recently washed. Gaara could smell the freshly used cleaning products. Apart from that, the house was mostly empty with a few furnishings here and there.

You had to cross the living room and go through another door to reach the space the dining room and kitchen shared. Sakura quickly moved the plastic camping table she'd been using and placed it to the side.

"You can put it right here," she told him.

Placing the table down where she indicated, the redhead let out a deep breath after carrying the hefty piece of furniture through the house. Of course, he wasn't about to let her know that it had been a bit too heavy and that his back might complain about it later.

Looking around the house for a moment, he finally turned to her. "It seems you were in a hurry when you moved in. Someone didn't want you where you were living before?"

Sakura chuckled quietly at his question. "Sort of, yeah."

He turned his head sideways in mock contemplation before sneering slightly. "Got caught doing something you shouldn't have and your boyfriend throw you out?"

Her eyes narrowed slightly and a spark of temper ignited in her emerald orbs. "No! As a matter of fact, my room mate and best friend with whom I was living with got married. Her husband was moving in and I couldn't very well stay there with them, could I?"

Gaara realized she was even prettier when she was annoyed.

"Ah, so you _were_ thrown out."

"No I wasn't!" she replied, gritting her teeth.

"Suit yourself," he said, "whatever helps you sleep at night." With that he turned round and walked back towards the front door.

'The nerve of the man!' Sakura thought annoyingly. Still, she wasn't about to let his stupid comments get to her. What did he know about her after all? It wasn't her fault he had an attitude problem.

She followed him to the door and saw him lowering the chairs from the truck. "I can help you with those," she offered, approaching him with a quick step and wanting to get this whole thing done as quickly as possible.

He simply chuckled in derision at her. "They're your chairs, you do whatever you want. Don't complain if they're too heavy for you."

"I'm tougher than I look," she countered indignantly, hands on her hips.

He threw her an unconvinced glance over his shoulder as he picked up one of the chairs with seamless ease and moved towards the house.

Sakura gestured disdainfully at his back and turned to her own chair. Picking it up, she realized that he had been right, the damned thing _was_ heavy. She remembered that Kankurou, the owner of the shop were she had purchased the set, had told her that the wood it was made of was heavier than most. That was the reason she'd liked it in the first place; the chairs were bulky and rustic, commanding the attention of whoever entered the room along with the table. She was an idiot for remembering that now but she wasn't about to admit defeat.

By the time she reached the door, she needed to take a little breather because her arms were straining. She met with the redhead who was coming back for another chair.

"I see you're doing well," he commented sarcastically as he walked by.

Sakura wanted to throw the chair in front of him at his head but didn't give in to the temptation. She thought of pushing it all the way to the dining room but there was a possibility that it would leave marks on her recently polished floors. There was no going around it; she would have to lift it again.

Gritting her teeth, she managed to make it to the dining room without stopping again. She breathed out in triumph as she tucked it under the table and stroked the plastic wrapped wood lovingly.

"Will you look at that, she did make it after all," the redhead remarked as he came back in, hauling another chair.

Something inside her snapped.

"What the _hell_ is your problem? Do you always treat your clients like crap, Mr. Egotistical Delivery Man?" she yelled at him.

He dropped the heavy chair with a loud thud next to the table. Leaning forward and crossing his arms over its back, he surveyed Sakura with an irritatingly lofty look on his face.

The pink haired girl refused to cower before his glare and placed her hands on her hips once more, meeting his jade stare squarely.

Her jaw almost dropped open when the glint in his eyes shifted some seconds later and his lips turned upwards into a devious grin. It made him look three times more handsome than he already was.

"The name's Gaara, not Egotistical Delivery Man," he said. "And no, I don't treat all my clients like crap. Only _you_'ve received special treatment."

With that, he turned round once again to bring in the last of the chairs.

Sakura wanted to scream and bang her head against the wall. The insufferable man! How dare he? It didn't matter that he looked positively gorgeous when he smiled or that he'd left her fumbling with that unexpected grin. He had no right to treat her like this, especially since she'd never seen him before in her life.

She breathed in deeply in an attempt to centre herself and stayed were she was, waiting for him to bring the remaining chair and get out of her house. He came back just a moment later and finished his task. He wasn't going to win this game, oh no… she wasn't going to let him.

Eliciting her most charming smile, Sakura turned to him with an overly grateful look on her face.

"Thank you for everything, Gaara-san! I couldn't have done it without you," she said sweetly. With this remark, she proceeded to escort him to the door while he gave her a sideways glance.

"Yes, I know you couldn't have coped without my help, not with the trouble you had with a _single_ chair," he said when they came to the front door, his jade eyes mischievous.

He was trying to pull her strings on purpose, damn it! She was _not_ going to fall for the ruse and give him the satisfaction of seeing her angry.

"Of course not," Sakura replied, seemingly agreeing with him. "Enjoy the rest of your afternoon, goodbye." With that she started closing the door and forced him out of the house.

"What, I'm not getting a tip?" the redhead asked, that irritating grin back on his features.

"No. You're not," Sakura replied before slamming the door in his face and proceeding to lock it loudly.

With a triumphant feeling surging through her, the pink haired woman made her way back to her living room. It was time to continue with her interrupted cleaning duties and to unwrap her lovely furniture.

It was belatedly, as she was polishing the windows some time later, that she realized she had not only ordered her dining table from this particular store. Her living room coffee table, her dresser, a vestibule stand and her new bed were all coming from the same establishment. She felt like breaking the window she was cleaning with her forehead in that instant.

It wasn't her fault that the furniture at 'The Puppeteer' was so pretty and you couldn't possibly begin to dream of getting customized furnishings made at such affordable prices anywhere else. Besides, she had wanted to get her shopping done as quickly as possible and it was convenient to buy several items from the same store while she was there.

Even so, she had to be positive. The store probably had many other delivery men. Chances of the intolerable redhead showing up once again at her door were slim. Especially not after the way she'd rudely thrown him out…

…or so she hoped.

_- XXXXXXXX –_

Driving down the road, Gaara couldn't help but chuckle darkly to himself as he relived the whole incident with the pink haired spitfire. It hadn't lasted more than 20 minutes but she'd aroused his interest more than he'd thought possible. Admittedly, he'd been trying to get on her case just for kicks. In his experience, pretty girls like her had a tendency to be moronic and docile to a point that it was just simply irritating to witness their lack of personality; but not this woman.

Standing up to him the way she did was something very few people who valued their lives had ever done. His temper was just that nefarious. But even when he'd treated her with disdain, the woman had squared her shoulders and met him head on, pulling that sardonic stunt at the very end and slamming the door in his face. It was something that hadn't happened in years whenever he was out on delivery for Kankurou.

The woman wasn't afraid of him.

It was an intriguing thought and the redhead wondered what other traits she was hiding under that roseate disposition of hers. But to unravel said mystery he would have to ask his brother about his pink haired client and find out a few more things about Haruno Sakura. Coincidentally, he'd seen a few orders under her name back at the store. Making sure he delivered _all_ her furniture was a given.

He couldn't wait to see her face when she found him knocking on her door again.

* * *

Gaara turned out extremely annoying in this chapter… and I loved him for it. Hehe. Let me know what you think, guys. Thanks for reading!


	2. The Dresser

**A/N: **Wow guys, thanks for your support on this one! I've been really overwhelmed with your responses. xD I'm also glad that the first chapter made you laugh… it's good to know that there's people out there that share my sense of humour.

I've been getting ahead with my writing thankfully but as I was planning the following events in the story, I realized I was going to have to add an extra chapter (and possibly chapters!) to this fic. How predictable am I, with my lengthening stories? 8D

I hope, at least, that you won't complain about that!

But without further ado, here's the next instalment…

* * *

**Chapter II – The Dresser**

"No!" Kankurou exclaimed as he walked hurriedly towards his office. It was the end of the day, the store was already closed and he was looking forward to going home after long hours of work… with the exception that his brother was getting in the way and being a nuisance. "No, no, no. It's as plain as that."

"No what?" Gaara asked, terribly annoyed at Kankurou's overreacting. "I just asked a simple question!"

"It _wasn't_ a simple question," the tattooed carpenter replied, his eyes narrowing. "I've known you all my life and I know when you're up to something. You showing interest in one of my clients cannot possibly be good… especially not _this_ client."

"So there is something special about her," Gaara commented with an interested glint in his eyes.

"Listen, you are very much aware that anytime you show interest in a woman things end up disastrously. Whenever you're involved, things always get screwed up. I don't know how you do it and I really don't care. You can take it as me trying to prevent your suffering, so stay away from her."

With that, Kankurou sat down at his desk and tried to arrange the many scrambled papers on it into a semblance of order. He was trying very hard to ignore the looming presence of his brother leaning against the doorframe and wishing very badly for him to let this whole thing go.

"Your undying faith in me is overwhelming," the redhead remarked, his words dripping with sarcasm. "And here I was, finally showing interest in the work you've given me."

Kankurou gave him a sidelong glance, recognizing the lie for what it was and knowing very well Gaara wouldn't leave him alone until he offered at least a bit of information. He made a mental note to keep his brother really busy on other deliveries in the following days as pay back.

"Fine, you want to know?" he asked in defeat. "Haruno Sakura is the twins' paediatrician."

Gaara blinked for a moment, assimilating this piece of news.

"No wonder she has an attitude. She _needs_ one if deals with those two."

Some years back, Temari had fallen in love with a theology professor at the local university; a man with a fanatic streak for his subject and a very foul mouth. Hidan, on the other hand, had been taken in by the dark blond's sass and her strong personality. Their liaison had resulted in one of the most explosive and eccentric courtships Gaara had ever witnessed. They eventually managed to get married, the ceremony being held by a priest of Hidan's strange religion, and settled down in a comfy home in the suburbs. One would think they would have enough on their hands handling each other but as the strange workings of the universe would have it, the twins had arrived.

Inheriting their mother's strong temper and their father's penchant for chaos, his nephew and niece gave the redhead, who had been nothing short of problematic as an infant, a run for his money. At the age of three, they were a team ready to take on the world; Kamlyn with his hyperactivity and Nyoko with her keen intelligence. Placed together, there was no children's day care centre that could survive them. Admittedly, Gaara had joined in with their mischief often, being the understanding uncle. He loved them both and thoroughly enjoyed their antics… as long as their waywardness didn't take place in his apartment. You needed a strong temper and backbone of steel to deal with both of them at the same time, which wasn't something any stranger could do, especially not when it came to medical checkups.

The redhead's admiration for Sakura was growing by the minute.

"She came by the store because she mentioned to Temari that she was changing residence and wanted to buy some furniture. Our sister recommended The Puppeteer and she dropped by." Kankurou was saying. "Temari is really fond of her and asked me to give her a special price."

Gaara threw him a questioning look. He was well aware that his brother didn't lower his prices just for anyone.

The tattooed man sighed. "Remember last year, when Kamlyn was really sick and we didn't know if he'd make it? Well, Dr. Haruno was the one who managed to cure him of his pneumonia in the end. You also remember how frantic Temari was during that time and how no doctor managed to help because of the kid's allergy to some medications. Well, in a nutshell, we owe this woman our nephew's life. You know very well how difficult it was for our sister to find a paediatrician she could trust and I'm sure she won't appreciate the fact that you plan to tangle with said doctor in one of your disastrous escapades!"

Jade eyes glared at Kankurou. "I do _not_ have disastrous escapades… they're just, unconventional."

"Gaara, one of your ex-flings almost filed a restraining order against you!" the tattooed man exclaimed in exasperation. "It was only by luck that she decided to drop charges and let the whole thing go."

"Well, she shouldn't have cheated on me with that bastard!" the redhead countered, his temper flaring instantly at the memory. "It was only obvious for me to send the asshole flying out the window when I found them screwing in the bed I had slept in the night before!"

"Yes, yes, we've been over that," Kankurou replied, leaning back in his chair. Why was it that whenever he dealt with his younger brother he felt like having a glass of whiskey to help him cope? "It's in the past and it's over. I'm just saying that if you get involved in any way with Dr. Haruno and Temari ends up losing her paediatrician because of it, I will let her skin you alive simply because you deserve it."

"I think you're getting ahead of yourself," the redhead said defensively, turning to leave, "I simply asked who she was. Who says I'm interested in her in any way?"

"No one is and hopefully it will stay that way!" Kankurou called after him. But he knew better.

There was a reason why Gaara had approached him, trying to look casual and aloof, and asked about the woman he'd delivered the dining table for. He'd lived with his younger brother all his life and knew his manipulative strategies very well. The redhead had a tendency to quietly scheme behind other people's backs. By the time you finally found out what he was up to, it was entirely too late. You usually found yourself diving for the nearest bomb shelter where it was wise to stay and wait for the apocalypse to pass.

Their high school years had taught Kankurou to always look underneath the underneath whenever it came to his explosive brother. If it hadn't been for Naruto's timely appearance in the 9th grade and his uncanny ability of being able to handle Gaara, he knew very well that both himself and Temari would've been buried six foot deep a long time ago.

This was why the tattooed man knew that when the redhead said he wasn't interested in something, it meant completely the opposite. Gaara had a tendency to become utterly obsessive in a blink of an eye and to take things over the top no matter what. Most women were running for the door before the first date while the rest changed their minds a short time later. Still, many of them didn't hold the redhead's interest for long and an extra something was needed for a female to retain his brother's attention. This did nothing to ease Kankurou's apprehension. He wondered what had exactly happened during Dr. Haruno's delivery to perk Gaara's interest.

In all honesty, he didn't want to know. He wanted to remain blissfully ignorant. He could only hope for the redhead's interest to be only temporary and for it to flutter away soon before it had a chance to grow. If not, he wished Dr. Haruno the best of luck.

She was definitely going to need it.

_- XXXXXXXX –_

During the next few days, Gaara went about his chores with his usual indifferent approach. He took orders from no one except his brother and mingled as little as he could with the people of the workshop. In truth, Kankurou's assistants were more than happy for him to give them wide berth. Getting in the redhead's way wasn't something they looked forward to… or something they would likely survive thanks to his infamous temper.

Thus, if Gaara stayed away as much as he could, no one was going to complain. This was a fact he used as an excuse to show up late and take constant breaks whenever he was out on delivery. Still, he got the job done, so his older brother had nothing to complain about. It also left him time to wonder about the pink haired hell-cat he'd met at the beginning of the previous week.

She was a doctor, which meant she was smart. That was always a big plus. She worked with children, which meant she had some degree of patience; since she'd chosen that particular specialization in her field, it meant she liked to work with little kids. Everyone knew children always demanded high levels of tolerance and forbearance. Knowing she could handle his niece and nephew spoke leagues for her. He also had to insert the fact that Temari regarded her highly as a professional, making it obvious she wasn't your average woman. His sister had really high standards, especially when it came to her kids. That Temari would be upset if she held back her services as the twins' paediatrician definitely caught Gaara's attention.

It seemed this pink haired doctor with an underlying temper could just be worth his time. Besides, with how bored he was being a temporal delivery man for his brother, the redhead decided he needed a project to work on. It was necessary to keep himself entertained. And who better to suit his needs than Haruno Sakura?

The problem was her orders were taking a bit too long to be fulfilled. This was the issue with Kankurou's workshop. Since each piece was commissioned with specific details by the client, it took longer for the furniture to be made. Gaara knew there were people who'd been on the waiting list for delivery for months. Even so, the redhead knew his brother was giving priority to Sakura's orders due to her involvement in saving their nephew's life. So her things shouldn't take that long to be ready.

Nonetheless, a whole week had gone by and none of the rest of the items she'd ordered had been finished. Patience had never been Gaara's virtue and he was starting to become more feisty than usual with irritation. He knew Kankurou might try to boycott him and send someone else to deliver her things but the redhead would not be outmanoeuvred by his brother. He'd been keeping a close eye on the orders that had been coming out and had noticed Kankurou had started work on a dresser a few days ago. Having looked at the list of furniture Sakura had bought, he was aware this particular piece was hers. The thing had almost been completed the day before and the redhead was counting on it to be ready for delivery today.

Walking into the shop a little late as usual, Gaara made his way to the back to pick up his list of tasks for the day. Kankurou greeted him in the normal way and continued with his carvings while the redhead made his way to the store room. There, he took note of the items on his lists and proceeded to bring them to the loading platform. However, as he passed by the rows of furniture, he noticed a plastic wrapped shape that looked very similar to the dresser his brother had been working on.

Jade eyes narrowed as he realized the thing was partly hidden behind a bookcase and wouldn't be noticed unless you were specifically looking for it. So Kankurou thought he was going to get away with this? Well, he was going to be terribly disappointed.

Without wasting time, Gaara picked up the dresser and moved it towards the entrance of the storage room. It wasn't really all that big, just a chest of four drawers carved in an artsy kind of shape his brother had been using lately. The thing reached just little above his waist and it was evidently meant for a girl, with little flowers carved as decoration in the wood.

Placing it next to his other items, the redhead took the delivery papers taped to the plastic and added them to his personal clipboard.

"Is that on your list?" Taji asked. He was a wiry man, as tall as Gaara but with less than half his bulk. The redhead had always thought he could be toppled over by a strong wind.

"Yes it is," he answered in a hard tone.

"But I thought Goro was supposed to deliver that one," the man insisted.

He was pierced by a very angry jade glare. "No. Goro isn't taking this dresser anywhere. _I'm_ the one that's delivering it. Is there a problem with that?"

Taji swallowed visibly and decided that as long as the thing was delivered, he really shouldn't be complaining. He shook his head at the irate redhead.

"Good." With that, Gaara jumped down from the loading platform and into the parking lot, intent on getting his truck before anyone else thought of taking that dresser out of his hands.

_- XXXXXXXX –_

He couldn't believe she wasn't home.

After ringing the doorbell for five minutes, the redhead had sneaked a peek through one of the windows. The house looked slightly more furnished than it had before and she had finally managed to hang curtains on most of her windows. Still, the house was completely deserted and apart from the lonely couches sitting in her living room, there was no one there to answer the door.

He would have to come back later and deliver her dresser at the end of the day. Problem was he didn't want to do that. After driving across town from his previous delivery, Gaara wanted to leave the dresser where it was supposed to go _now_. Just because she was pretty and had caught his eye didn't mean she would receive any special treatment. She'd better think twice about that.

It didn't matter that in the specifications for her deliveries, she's stated she wasn't available before 2pm on Tuesdays. So it was 1:25pm now, big deal! It wasn't his fault there hadn't been much traffic to begin with and he'd gotten here faster than he'd expected. The option of waiting in his truck until she showed up didn't suit him very well and he searched around for other alternatives.

Leaving the dresser out by the front porch was sounding more appealing by the minute but if it rained and it got wet, his brother would pin his balls to a wall. Besides he needed her signature stating the item had been delivered. On top of that, Gaara had been looking forward to seeing her and getting on her nerves. She wasn't going to deprive him of his much wanted entertainment.

Before he could throw the tantrum of a century, the redhead was struck by an idea. It wasn't exactly conventional but when had he ever stuck to the rules? Making his way to the truck, he took the papers with Sakura's order from the clipboard and started skimming through them. He found what he was looking for on the second page.

It was protocol to ask clients for their work address just in case they preferred to have smaller items delivered there or when they couldn't leave someone at home to receive the furniture. Just like it was happening now.

Luckily, Sakura worked at a clinic not that far from where she lived, a fact that had doubtlessly affected her decision to buy this house in the first place. Grinning roguishly, Gaara placed his truck into gear and drove off.

It took him less than 10 minutes to get there and he was happy to find the clinic had its own private parking lot for clients to one side of the building. Leaving his truck there, he walked round to the entrance and came to the main receptionist's desk.

"I'm looking for Dr. Haruno Sakura," he said, looking down at the dark haired young woman.

Her white eyes stared up at him in astonishment for a moment before she seemed to find her voice.

"Y-yes, she's at the end of the hall, office number 14," she stammered shyly. "Who do I say is looking for her?"

Jade eyes followed in the direction she had pointed and he nodded. "Don't bother, I'll find her myself. I'm the delivery guy." Before she could respond, he walked down the hall that led into the interior of the clinic.

"Delivery guy of what?" Hinata asked herself, trying to catch her breath after such an unexpected encounter with such a handsome man.

Gaara reached the end of the corridor only to find it opened up into a waiting room. There were some couches and coffee tables as well as kids' games all over the place. Five closed doors surrounded the area and he noticed #14 was the one at the end to his right. There were three children on the carpeted floor playing with different toys, their respective parents sitting on the couches and chairs.

Great, she was probably in the middle of an appointment and he'd have to wait until she was done. He really didn't want to sit down near any of the parents; they were starting to survey him with suspicious glances. Maybe getting the receptionist to call her would be a better idea.

But before he could walk back, the door marked #14 opened and out walked the pink haired doctor, leading a little girl holding a lollipop by the hand.

"Hope you feel better soon Mariko and remind your mummy that you deserve a piece of that special candy I gave you after every pill."

The girl's mother was right behind her, a smile on her face. "Alright Mariko, say thanks to Dr. Haruno."

"Thank you, doctor!" the little girl said enthusiastically before putting her lollipop back into her mouth.

"If the fever comes back, you give me a call," Sakura said, turning to the girl's mother once again. "Have a great afternoon."

"You too, Dr. Haruno," the woman said before taking Mariko's hand and leading her down the corridor.

As the pink haired doctor lifted her eyes and watched her patient walk away, she unexpectedly encountered a regrettably familiar figure of a man with crimson hair leaning against the wall to one side.

The smile on her face abruptly evaporated.

"What the _hell_ are you doing here?" she asked, her voice hard.

"Tsk, tsk," Gaara replied, shaking his head. "You use that kind of language when there are children around?"

Sakura was about to snap back at him when she realized the waiting room had gone terribly silent. All its occupants, including the kids who had been playing just a moment before, were looking up at the two of them.

Clearing her throat, she centred herself and placed her professional mask over her face. She simply refused to lose her composure in front of her patients. "Mrs. Fujioka, you and Seiji are next. Could you be so kind as to wait for me in my office for a second?"

"Yes, Dr. Haruno," the woman said, picking up her small boy from the carpet and moving towards the door.

"I'll only be a minute," Sakura said with a smile, closing the door when they were inside.

Without a word, she started walking, making her way down the corridor towards the entrance. Gaara looked at her dubiously before falling into step behind her. He really did have to admit she looked really good in her doctor's outfit, with her hair neatly pinned back and a skirt under her white coat. No wonder the kids were all so taken with her.

He opened his mouth to make a comment about the difference in her appearance from the last time they'd met when she abruptly whirled around on him in the middle of the hall. They were now out of earshot of the waiting room and she had no qualms in giving him a piece of her mind.

"You coming here was completely out of order. I specifically stated in my information that I was not available on Tuesdays before 2pm. That you had the gall to come all the way to my office is, to say the least, inappropriate. I would like you to leave and deliver whatever it is that you came all this way for at some other time."

As she spoke, his grin had grown with every word and it only made her angrier.

"Well, aren't you feisty when you're riled," he commented casually. Before she could butt in and answer that, he continued speaking. "Two things. First of all, it isn't inappropriate for me to show up here since we ask our clients for their work address precisely because of this kind of situation. Second, I have a gut feeling that if someone else from my store had shown up, you wouldn't have reacted the way you just did. This means you're upset because _I'm_ the one who came to deliver your dresser. That, I'm afraid, is simply just too bad. If you have a problem with me, I can leave your dresser here. I'm sure your receptionist can look after it while you finish your work."

Sakura couldn't believe this was happening. This time, it was a scene right out of a nightmare!

"Of course I have a problem with you," she bit back through clenched teeth, "didn't I make it clear when I slammed the door in your face last time?"

His feline grin only got worse. "Alright then, I'll leave the dresser in the lobby." With that, he started walking past her.

Swallowing her pride, Sakura stopped him as she turned round to face him. "Wait. You can't do that." She took long deep breaths, reminding herself of how much she needed her dresser. Most of her tops and underwear were still in plastic bags scattered around her room. If she had to face this crimson haired fiend to get her clothes into prettily carved drawers, then so be it.

"And why not?" he asked arrogantly.

"Because the dresser won't fit in my car," she said, the sweet smile she plastered on her face in complete contrast with her forced tone. "It's the reason why I need your stupid delivery services in the first place or else I would've picked everything up myself and avoided these very unpleasant encounters."

"That your car isn't big enough isn't my problem," he replied, sneering at her.

"Oh yes it is," she said, her temper flaring again. "You know why? Because you're getting _paid_ to deliver my furniture by none other than _me_." As she spoke, she unconsciously walked up to him and poked him in the chest with her index finger repeatedly. "Therefore you're going to do the work you're getting paid for and will deliver the damned dresser at my home."

Jade eyes blinked momentarily as they regarded the finger on his sternum. He wanted to laugh at her real badly; she had just walked straight into his trap and had given him an excuse to keep delivering her things. Eliciting a dark chuckle, he lifted his hand and engulfed all her slim digits around his palm.

Sakura couldn't help suck in her breath slightly at his touch, immediately noticing how warm his hand was. She felt a spark travel all the way to her shoulder as his fingers wrapped themselves around hers. She suddenly lost all her bearings. Finding herself unavoidably staring at his hand and noticing how much bigger it was compared to hers, Sakura belatedly realized he was staring down at her with a strange look in his eyes.

She tried to extract her hand then. Pulling hard, she found he'd only tightened his grip and wouldn't let go.

"Why are you touching me?" she asked, her lips narrowing into a thin line. His warm touch was doing strange things to her body that she didn't care to explore further.

"Because you touched me first," he replied defensively. "You were the one who poked me."

Sakura frowned, cursing herself because he was right. Her mind was suddenly muddled and she couldn't explain how things had escalated to this level in a matter of moments. How could someone she barely know bring out the worst of her temper to the fore so quickly and then shake her up so badly by simply touching her hand? Something was terribly wrong with her.

She made the decision of getting a psychiatric check up as soon as she possibly could.

"Can I have my hand back, please?" she asked in all seriousness.

That stupid smirk was back on his face. "Why? You were very eagerly trying to bore a hole into my chest just a moment ago," he answered testily.

"It was a reflex action," she countered.

He elicited dark chuckle that sent a chill down her spine. "You don't like me touching you?"

"No, I don't," Sakura replied harshly.

"I'm sure I can change your opinion about that," he replied and abruptly, his face was suddenly very close… too close for the pink haired woman's senses to register what was happening. His mouth stopped a hairsbreadth away from her own as she regarded him with wide emerald eyes. She stopped breathing while she met his jade stare and found something in its depth she hadn't seen before.

But just as abruptly as he'd approached, he dropped her hand and took a step back, leaving her to try and find some sort of equilibrium in her bewilderment.

"Since you said you'd be available after 2pm, I assume your shift will be over soon," he stated, looking at the clock attached to the ceiling of the corridor. It was almost 1:45. "I'll wait for you outside."

He turned around then and started walking down the corridor, heading directly for the entrance.

Sakura was left in a whirlwind of complete confusion, not knowing which side was up and feeling utterly disoriented. It was only tardily that she heard the footsteps approaching behind her as someone neared.

"Good afternoon, Dr. Haruno," Dr. Sagara said, smiling at her from behind his white moustache.

"Good afternoon, sir," she replied, whirling around and laughing nervously at the elderly physician. He occupied the office next to hers and specialized in child neurology.

"I say, are you alright?" he asked her, coming to examine her face more closely behind his glasses. "You seem to be a bit flushed."

"Oh, I'm perfectly fine," the pink haired girl replied. "It's just this summer heat that sometimes hits me harder on some days."

"Ah yes, I completely understand. If you're feeling out of sorts, don't forget to take a break," he said helpfully before continuing to walk past her.

"I will, sir!" Sakura called after him, suddenly remembering she had a patient waiting.

Trying to shake the bewilderment clouding her mind thanks to the actions of the unbearable redhead, she practically ran down the corridor to her office.

Twenty minutes later, she had gathered her things and was at the front desk speaking to Hinata.

"If he shows up here again," she said, pointing to the redhead who was standing outside the window drinking from a can of Coke, "tell him I'm not in."

The raven haired girl smiled. "Yes, Sakura. But don't you think he's rather handsome?" she asked shyly.

"Don't even go there," the doctor replied, opening the door and bracing herself to face the crimson demon again.

"About time," Gaara complained as he drained the can he'd obtained from a nearby vending machine and threw it in the nearest trash bin.

Sakura ignored his remark. "I hope you know that I'm filing an official complaint about this," she said tersely as she made her way down the sidewalk and to the clinic's parking lot.

"You can do whatever you like," the redhead replied indifferently. "My brother knows I'm only working temporarily for him so nothing's going to happen if you do."

"Wait, Kankurou's your brother?" Sakura asked in surprise.

"Unfortunately sometimes, yes."

She stopped in her tracks as she put two and two together in her mind. "That means your Kamlyn's and Nyoko's uncle."

"Unfortunately sometimes as well, yes," he replied stopping beside her.

Emerald eyes regarded him with a strange glance, as if she were rearranging her personal perception of him.

"Poor children," she stated with a harried look before resuming her walking.

Gaara simply chuckled. "I wouldn't say that. I'm their favourite uncle since I'm the one that lets them get away with things."

Sakura narrowed her eyes at him. Imagining this temperamental and unpredictable man taking care of a pair of children didn't exactly make her feel comfortable. She would have to speak to Temari about the time the twins spent with their uncle. Still, knowing he cared for his niece and nephew somehow helped to soften the edges of the rough impression he'd made on her.

_It's only because you like him,_ Inner Sakura interrupted suddenly.

'No, I **don't**," she replied inside her head.

_Ah yes, the good ol' denial strategy, _her inner persona replied with a sigh. _We both know very well he was doing weird things to your heartbeat just a while ago in the corridor._

'Shut up!' Sakura answered vehemently and with finality.

By then, they'd already reached her car. To her utter annoyance, Gaara let out a loud derisive laugh when she moved to unlock the passenger door to place her satchel on the seat.

"You drive a Mini-Cooper?" he asked in disbelief, unable to control his mirth as he spoke.

Sakura swore she felt her eye start twitching. "Yes, I do. It's a very reliable car and I can park it _anywhere,_ even in the tightest spaces. I don't need a large vehicle to feel good about myself, unlike others." As she finished, she pointed towards Gaara's delivery truck, parked some distance away.

"I'd like to remind you the truck isn't actually _my_ car. It's just what I use for work," he said, a glint in his eyes. "Besides, I think you driving around in a green Mini-Cooper is strangely fitting. Small but feisty."

The pink haired girl blinked. Had he just strangely complimented her with that remark?

She decided she really didn't want to delve deeper into it and made her way to the driver's side. "I take it you'll follow me to my house," she said.

"Lady's first, after all," Gaara replied mockingly as he too made his way to his truck.

Luckily, the drive back was uneventful and the redhead managed to stay two cars behind her at the most. She really didn't want to arrive at her house and have to wait for him. In truth, she really wanted to get this whole thing over and done with. As she drove, Sakura was forced to think over the events at the clinic and the more she thought it over, the more she realized she was just getting deeper into the bog.

From what she could tell, the redhead was not only a temperamental demon but an obsessed and impulsive stalker who had developed an interest in her. Clearly this could only mean trouble. She would need to avoid seeing him in the future if she wanted to save her own skin.

_Sure, that's just what you want to do, _Inner Sakura drawled as if playing along with what she considered self-deception, _it doesn't matter you were secretly hoping for him to show up with your furniture so you could admire his lovely legs or ogle his muscled arms._

This almost made Sakura miss a red light and she hit the brakes at the last second. She gritted her teeth in frustration and avoided looking in the rear view mirror, knowing very well the redhead in the truck behind her would be giving her a demeaning look.

Fortunately, they were already near her house and got there a few minutes later. As she opened her garage door and parked her car inside, Gaara backed up into her drive. Walking to her front door, Sakura unlocked it as the redhead walked round the truck to unload her dresser. She went inside and noticed she had a few messages on her answering machine; it was conveniently located on the floor for the time being until her vestibule stand was delivered.

'And it will most likely be courtesy of the same redhead who showed up again today', she thought in resignation.

She was startled out of her reverie by Gaara, who was already at her door with her furniture.

"Where to?" he asked gruffly. As much as he hated to admit it, he'd lost a lot of time by pulling the stunt of going to her office. He still had several deliveries he needed to get done and the last thing he wanted was to have Kankurou breathing down his neck.

"This way," Sakura replied, leading him through an archway to the right. They walked down a small corridor and came to a small TV room flanked by two doors. "Here," she indicated, walking through the far door.

Luckily for the redhead, the dresser wasn't even half as heavy as the dining table and he could carry it with ease. He entered her room and immediately noticed the king sized mattress on the floor as well as the plastic bags with clothes littered all over the place.

He set the dresser against the wall she pointed to and lifted his arms over his head to stretch his back.

Sakura thanked whatever gods were paying attention that she was standing behind him. This meant he couldn't see the look on her face when his shirt lifted up and revealed some nicely defined lower back muscles.

_Close your mouth,_ Inner Sakura warned and she realized her jaw had actually fallen slightly open at the sight in front of her.

She managed to snap it shut just in time before he turned round to speak to her.

"I'd always thought a doctor's room would look tidier," he remarked in that haughty tone of his.

Sakura grasped at the opportunity to be angry at him.

"Anyone's room would look like this if they just moved in," she countered irately.

He only stared at her, that irritating smirk on his face.

Sakura glared back. He wasn't going to make her uncomfortable in her very own room. "Don't you have work to do?" she snapped.

"As a matter of fact, I do," he replied. The look of childlike annoyance that crossed his features almost made her smile but Sakura stuck stubbornly to her irritation.

"Get to it then," she said, snapping her fingers.

He narrowed his eyes but started walking towards the entrance. "I'll let you know I don't take orders from anybody."

"Of course you don't," Sakura countered sarcastically with a quick roll of her eyes.

He stood at the front door for a moment, looking down at her in silence.

"What?" she asked angrily.

"No tip this time either?" he complained mockingly.

"Definitely not!" the pink haired girl exclaimed. "You stalked me to my workplace!"

Gaara chuckled as he turned to walk towards his truck. "I'll let my brother know how badly you're treating his employees."

"Don't worry, I'll let him know in advance about how badly _you're_ treating _his_ clients!" she yelled back.

"You know very well you haven't seen the last of me," the redhead called out after climbing into his truck. He graced her with one last feline grin before closing the door and driving away.

"Oh yes I have," Sakura whispered in reply as she watched him leave with narrowed eyes. "And I'm going to do everything in my power for it to stay that way."

* * *

Thanks for reading!


	3. The Vestibule Stand

**A/N: **Sorry for the delay, everyone. Work and the flu sort of got in the way of my writing, as well as the unexpected arrival of a family member I hadn't seen in months. I was fine for a couple of days but then my cold decided to come back with a vengeance. Needless to say, I haven't been feeling too good. ;_; But I shall prevail!

On a side note, just wanted to say that 'paediatrician' _is_ spelled with an 'a' at the start if you write in UK English like I do. You've probably noticed that I also write 'colo_u_r' and 'favo_u_rite'… the result of having attended a British school all my life. xD

Without further hold-ups, here's the next chapter.

* * *

**Chapter III – The Vestibule Stand**

"Thank you very much," Sakura said happily as she handed a couple of bills to the carpet delivery man. He'd been extremely nice and had actually helped her move the sofas around in the living room so she could arrange the heavy rug in exactly the way she wanted. The man had been exactly what a delivery guy should be like: cooperative, friendly and with the ability to make casual chit-chat that helped make his clients feel taken care off.

He wasn't a snobby, egotistical bastard who thought less of everyone else in the world while he went about flaunting his good looks and making poor unsuspecting female clients doubt their mental integrity. _That's_ what marked the difference between good delivery personnel. For the past few days Sakura had had many encounters with men of the trade from which to garner this conclusion.

Thankfully, her house was almost completely furnished now. The stores from which she'd purchased her things had turned out to be really efficient and now, her kitchen, TV room and bathrooms where completely set up. Some of her walls were still looking terribly empty but she'd decided to tackle the decoration one step at a time. Most of the things she'd ordered had already been delivered and she was quite happy with how the interior of her new home was turning out. She was going to be able to throw that house warming party she'd been planning soon.

However, before she did just that, she would have to deal with said narcissistic and infuriating redheaded delivery man; he who had been plaguing her existence since he'd showed up at her door. Being the analytical and rational person she was thanks to her professional training, the pink haired woman had realized she should stay as far away as possible from him. Their last encounter, consisting of them basically holding hands in the middle of her clinic's hallway, had made it terribly clear that if Dr. Sagara hadn't interrupted, she would have most likely done something she would've regretted.

Haruno Sakura _did not_ do things se regretted… ever. She was notorious for her keen intelligence and thus, she always thought things through systematically before doing anything that might compromise her position. It was simple rationality and it had saved her rear many times as she was coursing through university. Not to mention how much it had served her when it came to personal relationships.

Problem was her rationality was currently being threatened by a complete stranger; his irritatingly handsome face and exasperating demeanour did nothing to improve her grasp on her reason. Not that she could call him a stranger _now_. Somehow by being Kamlyn's and Nyoko's uncle, Sakura could rightfully say he was an acquaintance. The twins had always held a special place in her heart, especially after Kamlyn's illness the year before.

The pink haired doctor had fought that damned pneumonia with unconventional medications right alongside that little boy every step of the way. She had successfully cured him when all other doctors had been delaying treatment because of the child's unexpected allergies. She'd pulled him out of a serious crisis and by doing so she'd not only earned his mother's eternal gratitude, but the trust of both twins as well. Nyoko had wanted to be by her brother's side all the time and Sakura knew by the knowing glint in her eyes that she was more aware of things around her than most adults gave her credit for.

They were a pair of chaotic little ones ready to take on the world. They'd won over their paediatrician's heart with their resilience and she'd duly earned their confidence by being there for them when they needed it. It was this determining factor why Sakura loved working with kids; how they could utterly surprise you with the most meaningful things but be carefree and childish the next instant.

Not to mention she'd developed a readily friendship with their parents. Hidan and Temari, though unconventional in their own right, had gone out of their way to let Sakura know how grateful they were for the service she'd done for their son. They'd invited her over for dinner on a couple of occasions and the pink haired doctor had even been invited to the twins' birthday party. But she hadn't been able to attend at the last minute due to another of her patients being terribly sick.

This meant she could've met the infuriating Gaara a lot sooner than she actually had.

Pinching the bridge of her nose as she dropped into one of her living room sofas, Sakura tried to clear the sudden confusion in her mind. Why was it that whenever she thought of the redhead her thoughts would become muddled and caused her to become even more irritated?

_Are you really that stupid or do I have to spell it out for you?_ Inner Sakura remarked in a patronizing tone.

'A man that makes you lose all rational thought isn't good for you,' she replied, picking up a nearby cushion and throwing it over her face.

_I greatly differ from that opinion._

'That's because _you_ never think matters through. You always jump into things.'

_Something _you_ should do more often!_

'I barely know the guy,' Sakura countered defensively, trying to put an end to this pointless discussion she was having with her inner self.

_You could know him if you let yourself._

'He could end up being a freak! You saw how he stalked me to my office.'

_Yeah and Sasuke wasn't a freak,_ Inner Sakura countered in a mocking tone.

'This is difficult enough already without you bringing up an ex,' she replied with a groan.

_It just proves my point. Admit it, you're attracted to eccentric men._

'A habit I'm trying to break and you're not helping!'

_It's not necessarily a bad thing… you just need to improve your freak filter. You need to work on choosing the good freaks from the bad freaks._

'Is there such a thing as good freak?' she asked in exasperation. The pink haired woman felt like weeping from the hopelessness of it all.

_Of course there is. I think this Gaara might be one of them._

'Ah yes, how convenient,' Sakura replied, narrowing her eyes.

_Prove me wrong then,_ her inner self said with an impish smile that did nothing to comfort Sakura. _Just get to know him and then we'll talk._

"No, thank you," the pink haired girl said out loud, putting an end to their dialogue. She had to recover her rational mind and keep her thoughts in order, or else her inner personality would get the best of her. Inner Sakura had a manner of throwing convincing arguments her way, making her doubt her initial intentions. It was a good thing in some occasions because it forced her to see things from a different perspective; but not this time.

Not after the Sasuke fiasco. Oh no. She'd learned her lesson well.

Her convictions strengthened, Sakura picked up the cordless phone buried beneath her legs and stood up. Walking over to her fridge, she skimmed through all the post-its stuck to it until finally finding the number she was looking for.

"The Puppeteer, how can I help you?" a female voice answered on the other side of the line a moment later.

"Yes, hi. My name's Haruno Sakura and I ordered some furniture with you guys. I called yesterday and was told the stand for my vestibule would be ready today."

"A yes, Ms. Haruno! Shinpachi told me you had called. I'm happy to say your piece is finished and ready for delivery."

"That's precisely why I'm calling," Sakura said with a nervous laugh. "Instead of delivering it, do you think I could come pick it up?"

_- XXXXXXXX –_

As Gaara went over his daily list of tasks, he couldn't help but elicit a resigned sigh. It seemed there was a _lot_ to get done this day and as usual, he'd arrived at The Puppeteer in a tardy fashion. This meant he would have to speed up his deliveries if he wanted to have the evening off for that jog through the park he'd been looking forward to.

He'd been rather busy these past few days, working for Kankurou during the day and sending out job applications when he got home. Already, he'd sent his CV to five investment and stock companies but if he was quite honest with himself, he wasn't particularly taken with any of them. It would all depend on the interviews and what they would offer him. Despite his lack of social skills, Gaara had accumulated a vast amount of experience working on several projects in the few years since he'd graduated from college. He might not be the most forthcoming person out there but he knew how to get the job done; there was no doubt about that.

Finding a firm that would appreciate his business skills while overlooking his crude personality wasn't easy. He didn't know if he'd be able to find it, to be quite honest. Even so, the applications had been sent and all he could do now was wait.

Loading the daily furniture into his truck helped as a distraction and soon, he was thinking about the best deliver route he should take instead of wondering when he would acquire a more decent job. Despite the setbacks, he had to admit that delivering furniture did have its perks… namely one Haruno Sakura. She'd made this whole ordeal worth while and had made his servitude for his brother, as he liked to term it, a bit more tolerable.

Come to think of it, another one of her orders should be ready for delivery sometime soon. He'd delivered her dresser on Tuesday and it was Friday now. Kankurou had started work on both her foyer stand and bed; since the bed frame took longer to make, Gaara knew her stand would be finished first. He'd been keeping an eye out for it and was aware that one of Kankurou's assistants had been designated to add the finishing touches to it. As a matter of fact, he'd expected the thing to be there in the storage room this morning but it wasn't. This meant the assistant had slacked off and hadn't finished it on time for it to be included in the day's deliveries.

Frowning in irritation, the redhead climbed up to his truck and placed it into gear. He really didn't appreciate someone else's lack of efficiency depriving him of seeing the pink haired spitfire before the weekend. But sadly there wasn't anything he could do about it. The best he could do was to make sure he'd arrived on time on Monday to deliver the stand for her.

Imagining the look on Sakura's face when she was forced to start her week by seeing him on a Monday morning was enough to make him chuckle to himself. The insults cleverly hidden within comments she would throw his way would be priceless. He might just have to silence her perky little mouth with his own lips if she got too feisty. Admittedly, he'd been almost about to do that the last time at the clinic until that old geezer had come strolling their way. There was something unimaginably attractive about the emerald eyed doctor when she lost her composure. He couldn't help but be lured in. He didn't know why but she had triggered some kind of reaction in him, making his already impulsive nature even more impetuous. No one in the past had poked Gaara's chest while reproaching him and lived to tell the tale. Instead of getting annoyed at it, he'd found he wanted her to come even closer and had acted out on the whim.

Needless to say, the catch in her breath and the way her eyes had widened at his touch hadn't gone unnoticed by the redhead. It seemed the attraction he felt towards her was far from one-sided. From the glimpses he'd caught of her personality, Gaara could tell Sakura possessed quite a stubborn streak. This only made this little project of his all the more alluring. He planned to find out just how hard-headed she could be before giving in.

Driving the truck out of the alley at the back of the store, he passed the front of the shop and drove for a bit before coming to a stop at the red light at the corner. He rolled his right shoulder, trying to get a kink out of it. He'd had to haul a large bookcase the day before and despite the fact that another of Kankurou's delivery men had been there to help, his back had complained this morning. Thank goodness it was Friday and he had a weekend of loitering around to look forward to.

As he was contemplating the best way to spend his Saturday, the redhead was distracted by a dark green Mini-Cooper turning the corner he was at. There was a flash of pink as it passed by in the opposite direction. Looking through his side mirror, he saw the car make its way towards The Puppeteer. It stopped a moment later and parked in a spot near the front of the store.

The gears in his head shifted for a moment before quickly clinking into place again.

'The devious little _cheat_', he thought in furious disbelief. Did she think she could outsmart him?

When the light turned green, Gaara wasted no time in going round the block. Luckily, there wasn't much traffic at this time of day and he managed to return to the back of the shop in just under three minutes.

He jumped out of the truck, sprinting towards the entrance.

"But you just left!" Taji complained as the redhead passed the storage room.

Gaara ignored him and only slowed his pace when he'd traversed the long corridor that crossed the workshop and led to the storefront. There, he peaked through the small glass window on the swinging door that separated both areas and caught a glimpse of Sakura. She was happily surveying a couple of wooden porch chairs. Her vestibule stand was next to the cashier where Hana, one of Kankurou's vendors, was writing her a receipt.

Grinding his teeth, the redhead turned back to the pink haired woman, who was looking pretty smug with a little I'm-so-smart smile on her lips. As he watched her for another couple of moments, his irritation actually gave way to mirth. If she would go through such lengths to avoid him, then their previous encounter had affected her in more ways than she would probably care to admit.

He would so enjoy watching her when she realized her plan had backfired.

"What the hell are you doing?" Kankurou asked, suddenly apearing behind him. "You were supposed to be out on delivery ages ago."

Jade eyes turned towards him and offered him a nonchalant glance. "I'm busy with other things at the moment," Gaara replied, before opening the door and stepping into the storefront.

Kankurou was about to complain but as the door swung back, he also caught a glimpse of the pink haired woman admiring the furniture on display. He gulped deeply, about to follow Gaara but thinking twice about it when he recognized Sakura. He'd better steer clear of this encounter or else he could unknowingly make things worse. A long time ago he'd learned that when he got in the way of his younger brother, things had a tendency of exploding in his face.

Still, this didn't mean he couldn't oversee the whole encounter and garner his own conclusions about what was going on. If things took a turn for the worst and Gaara blew it, he might have to call in the cavalry; namely, he would have to give Temari a call.

Since Gaara hadn't actually done anything for the time being, all he could do was stand back and watch.

_- XXXXXXXX –_

"Ms. Haruno," Hana called out. "Everything's ready."

"Thank you very…" Sakura started to say but her words died in her mouth as she turned around and saw the vision from her nightmares standing right in front of her. The man she'd been trying to avoid like the plague had suddenly appeared out of nowhere.

There he was, arms crossed in front of his chest, his jade eyes staring fixedly at her. He was dressed in the store's uniform polo shirt and had a pair of faded jeans on, torn a little at the ends from where he dragged them slightly. His crimson hair was tousled in that annoyingly attractive 'out-of-bed' look he usually wore while his lips were curving up into an arrogant smirk. He was standing next to her piece of furniture.

'I can't believe this didn't work!' she wailed inside her mind but giving no outer sign of her inner turmoil. 'I planned this _perfectly_, dammit!'

She cleared her throat and started again. "Thank you very much, Hana," she said, moving towards the cashier and ignoring the redhead completely. "I'll be going now."

"Would you like some help with that, _Ms. Haruno_?" Gaara asked in a deceptively cooperative tone.

"No, thank you," she replied with an equally misleading smile. "I can manage."

"Are you sure, Ms. Haruno?" Hana interrupted, completely oblivious to the hostile energies circulating around the two people next to her. "It isn't a problem whatsoever. It's our job to help, after all!"

For the first time in his life, Gaara actually felt appreciation for Kankurou's air-headed vendor. Before Sakura could respond, his hands reached down to lift the plastic wrapped stand. The thing was actually a pretty aesthetic piece of furniture; four Greek-like columns had been carved out of the wood, with vines coiled around them, holding a round board between them. A small decorated bowl had been carved in the middle of the thick board, making it perfect to stash keys and loose change. It wasn't all that big and wasn't heavy at all, reaching only to Gaara's hip.

The redhead knew that by offering to carry it for her, he'd send a direct jibe Sakura's way. Taking the stand and tucking it under his arm with ease, he made his way to the front door.

"Thanks again," he heard her say to Hana once more before her steps started following him.

"Are you sure this thing will fit in your Mini?" he asked mockingly once they were out the door.

Sakura tried to convince herself that making a suicidal dive for the passing traffic on the street wasn't the best option.

She simply made as if he hadn't spoken to her and hurried her pace on the sidewalk, stepping ahead of him. Luckily, her car wasn't parked all that far.

Gaara gave her a sidelong glance, enjoying the situation thoroughly. "I see. You wanted to avoid me so much, you've decided on giving me the silent treatment."

Once more, she whirled round on him abruptly, her eyes flaring with temper. "You're just so full of yourself, aren't you? Why do you think everything revolves around you?"

"Give me one good reason why you came to pick up this piece of furniture instead of having it delivered like the rest of the things you've ordered," he said, his feline grin back on his features.

His demand caught her off guard and she searched her mind furiously for a quick answer.

Gaara didn't give her a chance to find one.

"We both know your car's terribly small. Nothing fits in it and you know it. This stand is the only thing you've ordered that will be able to make it in there. For you to go out of your way and come all the way downtown to pick it up means you're making an effort to avoid something."

He took one step closer to her and duly noted the way she was biting her lower lip. "And I think that something is me."

Emerald eyes narrowed as her temper came to her rescue once more. "And what of it? If I have the opportunity to circumvent an encounter with you, why shouldn't I take it?"

As she spoke, she started walking towards her car again, keys in her hand. "All you've done is behave like an asshole towards me, something I don't particularly enjoy. Any sensible person would want to steer clear of you."

Sakura reached her car and unlocked the passenger door. She had lowered the seat so the stand could travel on it without getting damaged.

"So I'm an asshole now," Gaara commented, his grin at odds with the solemn tone he was using.

"As if you don't go out of your way to be one," she countered testily.

The redhead was about to reply to that when an unfamiliar male voice spoke behind Sakura.

"HA! I always knew you'd end up hauling furniture like the useless nobody you are."

The pink haired woman watched the feline grin instantly disappear from Gaara's face as his eyes glazed over with intense cold fury. His body tensed immediately and she was glad the grimace that settled over his face wasn't directed at her.

She turned around to face the speaker, only to find a tall man wearing a posh suit standing near her. His sleek black hair was combed back and his clothes were impressively tidy, with his tie neatly in place and his jacket impeccably buttoned at the front. Sakura would've said he was handsome, with his chiselled features and deep blue eyes. Except the demeaning sneer he was throwing Gaara's way was tainted with undisguised cruelty.

The pink haired woman disliked him on sight and she took an unconscious step closer to the redhead.

Somehow, Gaara seemed to take this as his cue and he moved to step in front of her, coming between her and the stranger.

The rage emanating from him was almost palpable.

"Get the fuck away from here, Tohru," he said, his tone so icy it could've frozen the air around him.

But the man ignored him and took a step to the side to be able to look at Sakura as he spoke. "My dear, being the beautiful lady you are you should be warned that this man is nothing but a useless ruffian. He thinks he can get away with anything with his bullying and harrying ways. He simply wasted his time obtaining that renowned business degree he has in his possession. He would've ended up in the gutter like he is now no matter what he did."

Sakura found her hands fisting at her sides in irritation at the man's disdainful tone. She found that Gaara wasn't exactly thriving in the situation either. The back muscles of his arms were tensing even more by the second and she was suddenly afraid he might hit the man in front of them with the vestibule stand he was still holding.

Not that she would blame him for it.

"That is why I highly suggest you buy your furniture elsewhere, for any liaisons with him and his kind can only lead to problems," Tohru was saying. "I would happily be able to suggest some high class furniture stores," he finished with what he doubtlessly thought was a charming smile.

Inner Sakura was prepared to wreck havoc with the angry fit she was on the verge of throwing. If there was something she _detested,_ it was snobby bastards with money who looked at everyone else down the end of their nose.

Gaara opened his mouth to speak but she beat him to it.

"Well sir, as unlikely as I would trust the judgment of a conceited dunce like yourself, I've always made it a point to follow my own opinion when it comes to who I relate to. My companion here asked you to leave and since I was having a conversation with him before you rudely interrupted, I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to do the same."

Tohru gaped at her with disbelief, unsure if had heard right. He regained his composure quickly though, and pinned Sakura with an even more demeaning look.

Gaara seemed to bristle at this and moved again to block his line of sight.

"Suit yourself," Tohru said, smoothing his suit even though it didn't need to be straightened. He turned towards the redhead. "As for you, low-life, you know very well you'll never get another decent job in this city. I hope you enjoy drowning in that gutter you're in."

With that, the man turned around and stalked away.

Jade eyes stared as his back, as if he could break all the bones in Tohru's body with the sheer force of his gaze.

"What a tight assed bastard," Sakura commented, coming to stand beside Gaara. Turning to look at her, he saw how her emerald eyes were blazing with anger as she too glared at the man's back.

For the life of him, he didn't know why she had just stood up for him. Barely knowing him, she'd defended him against a man who evidently had a high standing in life and had insulted him for Gaara's sake. The redhead felt a strange warm feeling settle inside his chest as he glanced at her.

Every time they met, there was always something she did that made his estimation of her rise even more.

The pink haired woman watched Tohru climb into the driver's seat of a really expensive car down the street. He drove away in the opposite direction a moment later, oblivious to Gaara's deadly stare.

"You should've kicked his ass," she said, placing her hands on her hips as Inner Sakura nodded fervently in agreement.

"Trust me, there was nothing I wanted to do more," he replied irritatingly. "But with the uniform I'm wearing and knowing who he is, my brother's store would've been sued in a matter of minutes."

Sakura blinked. Now that she thought about it, he was absolutely right. All he would've gained was trouble for Kankurou and his business, especially since they were only a few steps away from the store. Before she could help it, she found herself smiling. Being capable of holding back his impulses for someone else's sake was something she wouldn't have thought Gaara capable of doing. Wasn't he full of surprises!

She turned to him then, her smile turning mischievous. "Well, well. You, the incarnation of egotism, being considerate? I'm shocked," she teased.

Gaara's eyes narrowed before he realized she was actually joking with him. Sakura was relieved to see the roguish grin return to his face. She could almost feel the terrible anger that had coiled around him minutes before start fading away.

"It seems you're not the only one who thinks I'm an asshole today," the redhead said, moving to place the stand inside her car.

"Why do you keep making that impression, I wonder?" she countered but she was still smiling.

The redhead shook his head at her, arranging the piece of furniture on her seat so it wouldn't move around while she drove.

"I don't think you know me well enough to make such observations," he replied, straightening up beside her.

"And why would I want to do that? Like I said before, any sensible person would steer clear of you," Sakura said, closing her car door.

"So you're calling the man who was just here sensible? He doesn't want anything to do with me, I assure you," Gaara replied, slightly annoyed.

"No, I didn't say that…"

"But you implied it."

"I didn't!"

"Evidently you agree with his opinion of me," the redhead added testily.

"Of course I don't!" Sakura said, temper flaring. "I wouldn't share that idiot's opinion about anything."

"You called me an asshole."

"I…" the pink haired woman was suddenly at a loss for words. But her irritation rose to the fore a few seconds later. "Well, you haven't treated me differently!" she countered indignantly.

"I can so prove you wrong," Gaara told her haughtily.

"Oh really?" Sakura challenged, avoiding the temptation of poking him on the chest again in her annoyance.

"Yes, really. And I _will_. Dinner, tomorrow night. I'll pick you up at 8 o'clock."

"Fine!" the pink haired girl exclaimed angrily, wanting nothing more than to throttle him. Why the _hell_ had she just stood up for this narcissistic man?

"Fine. See you then," with that, the redhead graced her with one last predatory grin before turning around and walking back to The Puppeteer.

Stomping her way to the driver's side of her car, Sakura fumed. She opened the door and sat down with violent motions, proceeding to slam her car door closed. Furiously turning the ignition, the shock only filtered through her anger-hazed senses until she was making a red light two streets away.

Emerald eyes blinked in disbelief as she covered her mouth with her hand.

'Did I just agree to go out on a date with him?'

_Yes you did,_ came Inner Sakura's triumphant reply.

"Shit!" the pink haired girl said, slamming her forehead against the wheel in front of her.

_- XXXXXXXX –_

Kankurou watched his brother make his way back to the store through the window. He'd witnessed the whole encounter and had recognized Tohru as one of the younger managers of the firm Gaara had previously worked for. He'd never liked the man; as a matter of fact, he'd never liked any of his brother's employers at all. But he'd known the job was a great opportunity for the redhead to get ahead in his field.

Thus, he knew Tohru's sudden appearance could only mean trouble. Kankurou been ready walk out of his store to give his brother his support if he needed it. In the end, that hadn't been necessary and it seemed Gaara had managed to live through the encounter without actually losing his temper.

This was something very out of the ordinary in and of itself.

"Well?" Kankurou asked when the redhead walked into the shop, wanting to know just what the hell Tohru had said to him.

Gaara only gave his brother a wolfish grin. "I've got a date with her tomorrow."

Visibly spluttering while a different kind of shock filtered through his system, Kankurou tardily grasped the implications of what his brother was saying. Needless to say, this wasn't the answer he had been expecting.

"You what?" he exclaimed.

"We're going out on a date," the redhead replied casually as he started making his way to the back of the store. "I've got to go now. Got stuff to deliver."

Kankurou was left there standing, Tohru completely forgotten and his mouth gaping in sheer disbelief. Dr. Haruno, the polite and assertive paediatrician, had agreed to out with _his_ brother, the self-centred and obsessive maniac? It was too contradicting an affirmation for his poor neurons to handle.

One thing was terribly clear, though.

The cavalry would really have to be called in.

* * *

Hope you enjoyed this one! I'll be starting work on the next chapter as soon as this flu of mine decides to hit the road... Thanks for your support, guys!


	4. Rearranging the furniture

**A/N: **No, this isn't an illusion before your eyes... it isn't a hallucination and it isn't a joke either.

Yes, it's an update!

I know no words can express my apologies for my long absence. I just hope my writing will, some way or the other, make up for it (even though I'll have to write one hell of a lot in the near future for it to be proper compensation!).

To all of you who have been waiting for an update and who have sent me messages asking me when I will be updating, I want to thank you most sincerely for your patience.

My muse finally retrieved me from the lost and found of fanfiction. Being reunited once more, I hope we'll be able to give you a good read.

Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter IV – Rearranging the furniture**

"HE'S WHAT!" Temari yelled on the other end of the phone.

Kankurou was forced to extend his arm to get the receiver away from his ear in an attempt to preserve his hearing capacity. He blinked for a few moments as the throbbing of his eardrum subsided. Still, he managed to listen to his sister as she fell into a diatribe of curses so creative, she could've only learned them from her husband. Even though he was holding the phone at arm's length, he could hear her clearly.

When she finally stopped to take a breath, he took the opportunity to give his opinion.

"I know I'm being paranoid but there's no helping it… especially not with our brother's history with women. I'm also aware I'm being a meddling busybody but I thought you were in your right to know."

"I'VE GOT EVERY BLOODY RIGHT TO KNOW!" Temari bellowed.

Kankurou didn't manage to get the phone away on time and his ear started throbbing all over again.

"HE'S GOT THE ENTIRE FEMALE POPULATION OF THE CITY TO CHOOSE FROM! BUT NO! HE'S GOT TO MESS WITH _MY_ PAEDIATRICIAN!" his sister continued to yell.

The tattooed-faced man sighed, knowing very well he had stirred the hornet's nest. Even so, he had done it with the best intentions for everyone involved. It was of the utmost importance he prevent Sakura from being hurt; she was his client and was the doctor of his niece and nephew. For her to end relations with the family, professional or otherwise, because of what his emotionally inept brother could or could not do was simply not an option. Also, he did not want Gaara to go around acting behind Temari's back and end up having the male parts of his anatomy chopped off when he finally blew it with the pretty doctor. It was better for their sister to know before the shit hit the fan. This way, the redhead would have more than fair warning and would be given a chance to reconsider what he was getting into. If he still decided to proceed despite the very harassing threats Temari would elicit, so be it. It was his call to decide whether he'd become a eunuch or not.

After his sister finished shouting once again, Kankurou attempted to calm her down somewhat.

"Don't worry so much, nothing's happened so far. There's much that can be prevented," he finally said.

"You're damn right it will be prevented!" Temari replied acidly yet a bit more evenly.

Taking a deep breath, the teal eyed woman tried to get her emotions under control. She knew her brother could hear her teeth grinding over the phone but she could help it. The temper they had inherited from their father usually lay dormant inside her… yet it could rear its awful head whenever something of this calibre came knocking on her door. The thought of Gaara using the woman who had saved her son's life just for kicks was enough to make her want to start snapping necks.

Her baby brother wasn't the only one entitled to vicious temper tantrums.

Still, she needed to play this right. Knowing Gaara well, she realized if she went into the fight head-first without thinking over her arguments thoroughly, she would end up screaming her throat sore to no avail. She needed to out-think him and present her reasons for not wanting him to get involved with Sakura in a way he couldn't argue against.

Temari knew she was capable of doing this… but not when she was so riled up.

"This is the _last_ thing I need when I'm going away for a week," she said with an exasperated sigh, finally letting the last of her temper expire. "I won't be able to be here to wring his neck if the situation calls for it."

"Don't worry," Kankurou replied, "I'll keep an eye on your kids as well as on him."

"Having them act as spies during the days he gets to babysit might not be such a bad idea," Temari conceded.

"I'll ask them to report to me directly," he replied with a grin. "I'm sure they'll be more than happy to oblige".

Temari didn't doubt it for one bit. If she asked Kamlyn and Nyoko to spy on their uncle on her behalf, they would take up the challenge in an instant. Maybe they wouldn't be able to garner much information but they were sure to drive Gaara insane.

The situation did have its merits.

"He just _had_ to choose the week of Hidan's conference to seduce my children's paediatrician, didn't he?" she said finally, narrowing her eyes. "It's almost as if he planned the whole thing."

The tattooed-man chuckled at the thought. "Gaara, plan? You've got to be kidding me! He writes the script of his life as he goes".

Temari couldn't help but smile at the truth behind his statement. Their baby brother's impulsiveness and rashness were infamous. "I guess it might give us some kind of advantage over him," she said.

"Yeah, if we could only read him correctly. You know his unpredictability is one of his most dominant personality traits."

The teal-eyed woman sighed again, shaking her head. "Indeed."

Kankurou let silence fall between them for a moment before asking, "So, what are you going to do?"

"I'm going to go talk to him, that's what," she replied, steel in her voice. "Tonight, without fail. Hidan and I have to be at the airport early Monday morning so I'll be busy all day tomorrow."

"He was supposed to go out with Sakura tonight… I'm not sure he'll be home." Kankurou commented.

"Oh, he _will_ be," Temari said. "I'll make sure of that."

The tattooed-faced man gulped quietly at the cold tone of her voice. He momentarily pitied Gaara and didn't envy what he would be facing when their sister showed up at his door.

"I'm going to have a nice, long chat with him," she continued to say, "and everything will be made clear."

"Good," Kankurou said, happy with the decision he had taken of informing his sister. Temari was the only person in the world who could keep Gaara in line, courtesy of her years as their impromptu mother.

With that whole thing settled, he was free to change the subject. "At what time are you dropping the kids off tomorrow?"

"We're taking them out to the kiddie matinee and lunch, so probably around 4 o'clock. Is that alright?" Temari replied.

"No problem. I know you guys will most likely be doing your packing at the very last minute and will call it a night as early as possible," he said.

Temari grimaced. "Yeah, we have to be at the airport around 3am. Damned tickets, they were cheap because of that!"

Kankurou laughed. "If they were cheap, then you have no right to complain."

His sister simply humphed.

"See you tomorrow, then. Wish you luck with Gaara tonight," he said.

"Hah!" Temari replied, her ire coming to the fore once again. "I'm not the one who's going to need it."

Kankurou wholeheartedly agreed with that statement.

_- XXXXXXXX –_

Sakura didn't know how it had come to this.

She was standing in front of her closet in her bath robe, arms crossed over her chest, surveying the clothes hanging before her eyes.

For the past 20 minutes, she had been standing in such a position and was going nowhere fast. Sure, there were days when you simply had no idea of what you should wear, but even so, you started rummaging and trying things on. You systematically went through your wardrobe until you found the right outfit.

Not this time, though.

She'd been overlooking her clothes all this time and hadn't even reached out for a single top or skirt.

The pink haired doctor, so self-assured in most aspects of her life, simply had no idea of what to wear.

Grinding her teeth, she reminded herself it was not her fault. The annoying redhead hadn't had the decency to mention where it was he planned on taking her to dinner. As a matter of fact, she was sure he had no clue either. He'd asked her out on a spur of a moment thing and definitely had not planned ahead at all. She was as likely to end up having dinner in one of the most expensive bistros in town as sitting down to eat at a fast food restaurant. Somehow she wouldn't put it past Gaara to treat a girl to a burger and greasy fries on a first date. Everything was a possibility when it came to his unpredictable nature.

Hence her hesitation when it came to choosing an outfit.

'Remind me again why I'm doing this,' she said to her inner persona.

_Because the guy's hot and you lost your temper._

Sakura sighed. That basically summed it up. If she'd been more mindful of her raging emotions the day before she wouldn't be in this mess. Of course, this didn't mean going out on a date with him had no appeal. She'd been battering her brain over the whole ordeal during the past twenty-four hours and had been finally honest enough with herself to admit it: she was attracted to the redhead. Not even a blind woman would deny his physical allure. There was an aura of maleness surrounding him that couldn't be ignored. She'd been aware of it from the very first time he'd knocked on her door but it had been overpowered by his infuriating and intolerable personality. It had taken no less than a few minutes to categorize him as a jerk.

But then things had taken another route altogether and no matter how irritating he was, Sakura's thoughts seems to stray to him more often than not. She'd gone out of her way to pick up her vestibule stand just to avoid him. When was the last time a man had affected her in such a way?

_Too long to even mention_, Inner Sakura replied.

And she was right. It had really been a long time.

Gaara was handsome and, even though she hated to admit it, crafty and intelligent. There was no denying he had an amazingly quick wit. This, coupled with his handsome looks, should have spelled the recipe for the ideal man. Sakura appreciated men with sharp minds above anything else; there was nothing worse than having a conversation with an idiot who didn't get any of her witty comments or jokes. Even though Gaara used his wit to enhance their bickering and fuel her annoyance, Sakura had to admit he would never be boring. She had to keep on her toes when it came to arguing with him. He forced her to stay two steps ahead if she wanted to grasp a chance to win their verbal spars, something she hadn't done the day before.

It was his victory this time around and she promised herself she wouldn't be a bitter loser. She would get him next time and would be the one to have the last laugh.

Lips curving up into a mischievous smile, Sakura stepped forward and started rummaging through her closet.

_Admit it_, Inner Sakura interrupted, _you're having a good time with all this_.

She chuckled at the statement and made no attempt to deny it. 'Oh, just shut up.'

It took her less than five minutes to settle on a light brown cocktail dress. It had short sleeves and a satin trimmed v-neckline of a darker brown colour; it reached just above her knee, exposing just the right amount of leg. It wasn't fancy and was casual enough for her to walk in unnoticed at the burger shop around the corner. Even so, if she walked in to take her place at a table at an expensive restaurant downtown, she wouldn't call any attention to herself either.

Happy with her choice, she applied make up, picked out some earrings and placed her things in a matching purse. All in all, she was ready ten minutes before eight o'clock and sat down to wait at her kitchen table. She read through the newspaper while she did so, wondering every once in a while just where they would end up having dinner. Hunger was starting to make itself apparent and she hoped Gaara would pick her up on time.

She wasn't harbouring such hopes when, half an hour later, she was still sitting in the same spot and had read _all_ the articles in the health section of the paper. Glancing at the time on the microwave, the irritation she'd been trying to hold back started simmering. She would've called him already to ask what was going on; however, due to the unusual circumstances of their acquaintance, she didn't have her date's number. Thus, all she could do was wait until he saw it fit to show up or to call.

Sakura leaned back in her chair and grinded her teeth. It occurred to her that he might be doing it on purpose. Being the infuriating person he was, it was possible he was making her wait just to get her riled up. It certainly seemed like something he would do just for kicks.

She pictured his face in her mind, a mocking grin on his lips while he thought of her sitting at home waiting, all dressed up and ready to go, but unable to call him so she could scream her head off at him. It was a scenario that would undeniably bring him mirth. She stomped her fist on the table and rose. She was going to wring his neck when he showed up... _if_ he ever did.

That was another possibility. Could he have asked her out just so he could stand her up? Somehow, it seemed too cruel an option even for Gaara. Besides, with the way he'd cleverly talked his way around her defences to get her to agree on going out with him, it wasn't likely for him to go back on his word. He'd put too much effort into the scheme just to let it drop.

Sakura settled down on her TV room couch and flipped through the channels, cell phone on the cushion next to her. It was necessary to distract herself from the fantasies she was entertaining of clobbering the redhead over the head with a baseball bat. Maybe if she cracked his skull like an eggshell, she might be able to cure him of his perpetual egotism. Her imaginative exploits of torture continued and reached unprecedented levels as her hunger increased.

A whole episode of a sitcom and packet of crackers later, there was still no Gaara. When her phone told her it was fifteen minutes past nine, her rage started to subside only to be replaced by a completely different emotion.

Worry.

What if something had happened to him?

Admittedly, she'd been so angry at being stood up she hadn't even considered this other possibility. He could have flown out of the windshield in a car accident and might be sprawled on the pavement while here she was, contemplating violent ways with which to maim him!

She stood up abruptly and started pacing round the room. Who could she call? She considered phoning Temari.

_Temari, hi, its Sakura. I'm going out on a date with your youngest brother but he hasn't showed up yet. Do you happen to know where he is?_ Inner Sakura mocked.

Cheeks flushing a deep red at the prospect of admitting to Temari that she was going out with Gaara, she dismissed the idea. It wasn't something Temari would ever find out about if she could help it! This meant calling Kankurou was out of the question as well, not that she had his cell phone or home number. How could she find out if Gaara was alright?

Swearing to herself she would wring his number out of him the next time she set eyes on him no matter what condition he was in, she flipped her phone open. She went through her directory and found the numbers she was looking for. A couple of colleagues were working the ER at different hospitals in town; if they were on duty they'd be able to tell her if a tall redhead with a crimson tattoo on his forehead had been brought in.

She was about to dial when she heard a car pull into her drive.

In a blink of an eye she was at the window, pulling back the curtain just a little so she could see out her front garden. A silver and black Jeep Wrangler had just parked in front of her garage. Its occupant was rummaging in the passenger seat beside him. He opened the door a moment later and got out, a couple of plastic bags in his hand.

Sakura thought she would scream in frustration.

There he was, wearing jeans and a gray long-sleeved button-up shirt with his hair tousled in the usual manner, looking gorgeous. The semi-casual look suited him very nicely, a fact that made Sakura's temper go off with alarming intensity.

And here she was, _worrying_ over the asshole!

She swore to herself, this time around, she really was going to kill him.

_- XXXXXXXX –_

Gaara wondered if he could murder his family and get away with it. Even if he didn't manage to avoid getting caught, it might just be worth the trouble. It would certainly be worth the satisfaction of being rid of them forever.

Never in his life had he detested having siblings so much.

He had just spent the past two hours in a verbal battle of epic proportions with his older sister. No matter how hard he tried to talk his way around her and to make her leave his apartment, Temari had not budged. She had stood her ground, bombarding him with calm, logical arguments. It was inevitable for her to have noticed the way Gaara kept glancing at the clock on the wall of his study but she had decided to ignore it. She had showed up to talk to business and didn't care what plans her brother had for the night.

No, that wasn't exactly true. Her endless tirade was testament to the contrary. She _did_ care about his plans; it was her intent to _ruin_ them. And she wanted to make her position clear in the process: she wanted him to stay away from Sakura.

The redhead had lost his temper when the clock's hands showed it was fifteen minutes past eight. The thought of his pink haired spitfire waiting for him at home while he wasted his time with his sister did wonders in shortening his patience. He held no qualms in sending his sister to the nether realms at the top of his voice. It was none of her business with whom he chose to go out with; she had no right to butt into his personal life.

But Temari refused to take the bait. She waited patiently for his outbursts to end before continuing to argue in a perfectly calm manner. This only enraged Gaara further but his angry shouts didn't work with his sister. He should have known better, though. Temari was the only person out there who was immune to his wrath; she had never been intimidated by it and never would be. Realizing he wouldn't get anywhere by screaming at her, he sat down to try to listen to her. It was the only option he had if he wanted to be able to see Sakura that night. So he let his sister talk and present her view of the situation.

He had to agree she was right on some points. Sakura _was_ her children's doctor; she had a right to butt in when her children's welfare was concerned. She wouldn't permit for Sakura to refer her children to another paediatrician after her liaison with Gaara ended in disaster. Because it would end up a catastrophe, his history with women was evidence enough to prove her point right. Sakura would want nothing to do with the redhead or anyone related to him; that was how badly all his affairs ended. When Gaara grew bored with her and chucked her out, it would be Temari's children who would suffer the consequences.

But that was the point, Gaara had thought. He _wasn't_ getting bored with Sakura. Somehow, he thought he never would get bored with her. She was always throwing surprises his way and her sharp tongue was always coming up with inventive ways to counter his bickering. It was the reason he had pursued her in the first place. She didn't cower before his temper and wasn't intimidated by him. Sakura stood her ground and stared him straight in the eye. None of the women he'd been with before had ever done this.

But he knew better than to mention any of this to Temari. She simply wouldn't believe it.

Just like he planned to do with Sakura, he would simply have to prove his sister wrong.

The wind finally went out of Temari's sails and at last she got up to leave. She'd said everything she wanted to say to him. It was his call to think things over and make the right decision. Despite his gruff exterior, Temari knew her brother wasn't such a cold-hearted bastard as he wanted people to think. He was devoted to his family and even though his niece and nephew drove him up the wall, he was dedicated to them in his own way. He wouldn't bring harm to them in any way if he could help it.

Ending her speech on that note, she reminded him to take good care of her children while she and Hidan were out of town before walking out his door.

By then, it was useless to call Sakura and make excuses. Besides, his control on his temper had been precarious and he needed to cool off a little bit before speaking to her. It wouldn't do to take out his anger at his sister on his pretty pink haired date. He'd hopped into his car, paid a quick visit to the supermarket and headed towards her house.

When he arrived, his wrath was under control once more and, admittedly, he looked forward to the tirade that would surely be dropped on his head. Unlike his sister, Sakura could rant at him all she wanted. He enjoyed watching her get all riled up, especially when he was the source of her irritation. A good verbal spar with her was just what he needed to improve his mood. She wouldn't disappoint when it came to giving him his due for making her wait so long.

It was just as he predicted.

She didn't open the door after he rang the doorbell three times.

Gaara chuckled. It was his just desserts, after all.

"Sakura, I know you're in there. Open up."

Silence.

"Come on, stop wasting time. I know you're definitely hungry."

He could hear the crickets chirping in the grass lawn behind him.

"Sakura, open the door," he said a little more forcefully.

There was no response.

"If you don't open this goddamned door I'm going to kick it in!"

"If you dare do that I'll beat you up to a pulp with a baseball bat!" she shouted back from inside of the house.

He grinned. That was more like it.

"I know you're pissed and you're entitled to throw a hussy fit. But I'm standing here with dinner in my hands and, just like you, I'm really hungry," he told her in an amused tone.

"And what's it to me? That doesn't explain why you're late by an hour and a half," she replied testily.

"Well, if you'd open the damned door I'd be able to explain it to you."

"I can hear just as well with the door closed!" she shouted back.

The redhead chuckled. "So you mean to tell me you're not hungry?"

Even through the door it was evident that she hesitated. "What did you bring?" she finally asked.

"Something real tasty," Gaara replied. "C'mon, open the door and I'll show you."

After a moment, the door opened just a crack and Sakura peered through it at him. She couldn't believe she had given in! But her hungry stomach had gotten the best of her. Bringing food was a good start to pacifying her anger towards him.

She eyed him suspiciously. He was standing in the doorway, a bottle of white wine in one hand and a couple of supermarket bags in the other.

"That doesn't look cooked," she stated dryly while arching an eyebrow.

Gaara barked out a laugh at the statement and stepped forward. Before Sakura could react, he pushed the door open, forcing her to stand back. She sucked in a breath to complain but he didn't give her a chance.

"It wasn't my fault I was held back. Believe me, it was terribly annoying," he told her. "Here, hold this for me." He handed her the wine bottle as he closed the door behind him. "It was my sister's idea of a really bad joke. I'm afraid we lost our reservations at the fusion restaurant I was taking you to."

Emerald eyes narrowed at him but he ignored her.

"Trust me, I'll make it up to you. I just need to borrow your kitchen." He turned on his heel and walked into the house, leaving her standing at the door holding the bottle.

He showed up amazingly late and had the nerve to walk into her house like if he owned the place? The unbelievable arrogance of the man!

She spluttered her way into the kitchen after him, ready to give him a piece of her mind. But the sight of him rummaging around and putting things into the fridge only caused her mounting irritation to sky rocket.

"What the hell are you doing?" she shouted.

He didn't even turn around to look at her. "What does it look like I'm doing? I'm cooking dinner."

Sakura jaw fell open in incredulity, anger abruptly forgotten. He was doing _what_?

Gaara backed up his statement by filling up a pot with water and putting it on top of a burner. He turned towards one of the plastic bags he'd brought and started depositing its contents on the counter.

She couldn't help but laugh nervously. "You're kidding, right?"

He did look at her then, pinning her with an arrogant stare. "What are you implying?"

"You can cook?" she spluttered out. It was inconceivable.

"So you're making a jibe towards my culinary skills," he replied with a snide grin. "You just proved my point. It just goes to show you just how little you really do know me. We haven't even sat down to dinner and you've already proved yourself wrong."

He turned round and opened some drawers while looking for a knife, leaving Sakura looking mutinous.

Truly, his conceit had no limits! She was tempted to throw the wine bottle she was still holding at his head but she kept her temper in check. If she calmed down enough, it was easy to concede she had been wrong. She really didn't know him at all. She'd been terribly prejudiced. He was entitled to a chance to show her just who he was underneath his arrogant and volatile exterior. The least she could do was let him.

"What are you standing around for? Get some ice and chill the wine," he ordered over his shoulder before proceeding to fold up the sleeves of his shirt over his elbow.

Sakura grinded her teeth and cursed him under her breath but did as she was told. She placed the bottle on the counter before squatting down to open one of the lower cabinets. It was a moment before she found the metal champagne bowl she was looking for.

She entirely missed the look Gaara threw her way and the wicked smile forming on his lips as he finally gave himself a chance to take in her appearance. The dress she was wearing suited her; it clung to all the right curves. The sight of her legs sparked an entirely different kind of hunger in him. She was bare footed, which meant she had thrown off her shoes while she waited for him. All in all, she looked beautiful.

"So, you went out of your way to get dressed up for me?" he teased while he emptied a bag of pasta into the heating water.

Sakura slammed the door of the cabinet shut. She rose, levelling the metal bowl at him. "No, as a matter of fact I didn't!" she yelled. "I had to choose a damned dress because I had no idea of where the hell you were planning to take me."

"I see," he replied not looking abashed in the least. "It suits you."

The pink haired girl was caught off guard by the unexpected compliment. But her ire at him didn't subside. She decided to ignore the remark and opened the freezer to fill the bowl with ice.

When the wine bottle was settled and placed to one side, she sat down at her dining table. She refused to help in him in any way. He deserved to do all the work himself.

Gaara didn't mind. He went about the kitchen like if it was something he did every day.

"You still haven't explained yourself," she said after a while, her temper getting the best of her. She tapped her fingers on the table.

"It was my sister's fault," he replied without stopping in his work. "She found out I was taking you out on a date and decided to intervene."

"She what?" Sakura exclaimed in shock.

Gaara sniggered at her response. "She decided it was against her children's interest for us to get involved."

The blood was flowing up to her cheeks and Sakura knew she was blushing furiously. Temari knew about all this? It was the last thing she needed. How was she going to face her when Kamlin and Nyoko showed up for their next check up?

"And why would she think that?" she asked nervously, dreading the answer.

"Because I always screw up with women. They always end up hating me and wanting to spill out my guts," the redhead admitted calmly.

"And you're telling _me_ this?" she shouted angrily at him. He was unbelievable.

He simply smiled at her. "I'm just giving you fair warning."

Sakura wanted to bury her face in her hands and weep. It was all she could do to prevent herself from pulling her hair by the roots and screaming in aggravation. How the hell did she end up in these situations?

Gaara noticed the look of despair coming over her features and laughed quietly. He put down the knife he was using to chop up some celery and walked over to her.

"Listen," he said, leaning one hand on the table and the other on the back of her chair. "I asked you out yesterday because I plan to prove you wrong. Well, it turns out I'm going to bring down two birds with the same stone. I plan on proving my sister wrong as well."

His sudden proximity was doing strange things to Sakura. She was suddenly aware of how much his shirt showed off the breadth of his shoulders. Her eyes roamed his face and she was once more taken aback but how handsome he was. But she was determined to keep on her toes. You never knew what he might throw her way.

"And how do you plan to do that?" she asked, trying to imitate his arrogant tone.

The haughty look she gave him had Gaara leaning down closer to her. "Wouldn't you like to know?" he all but whispered. He stopped only when his lips where a hairsbreadth away from hers. Sakura's eyes widened as she braced herself. But after surveying her for a couple of intense moments, he pulled back, brushing his lips against her forehead.

The spark elicited by such contact travelled all the way down to her toes.

Gaara threw her an amused look. "Now that I think about it, you're not allergic to shrimp are you?"

Sakura blinked. "No," she replied.

"Good!" he exclaimed. With that, he turned around and walked back to the preparations of the meal he was making.

_- XXXXXXXX –_

Sakura was aware she'd had a little too much to drink. She held herself blameless, though. A bit too much wine was necessary when it came to dealing with the man sitting next to her on her living room rug.

Dinner had been delicious. Sakura gave him all the credit he wanted in that regard. He'd cooked up a tasty shrimp fettuccini in a creamy alfredo sauce. She'd tried to get the recipe out of him but he refused to divulge his secrets. She somewhat regretted not helping him out but not much. It was better if he cooked it again for her whenever she felt like having some.

The evening had been full of surprises. Not only had he prepared an amazing dinner but he'd turned out to be an amiable date companion. Not that dinner at her house counted much as a date. Before the evening started, Sakura would've bet her lifetime savings that they would squabble throughout the whole night. It was, after all, their default means of interaction. But she was forced to swallow her words when Gaara kept an interesting stream of conversation throughout the meal and talked to her about his experiences working in the investment market.

Sakura couldn't help but be genuinely interested in what he had to say, especially when it came to the idiot Tohru. She helped him abuse him when Gaara told her all about his last job. Which was why, when the meal was done and the redhead stood up to take out the caramel fudge ice cream he'd bought for dessert, she didn't hesitate in opening up another bottle of wine she had stashed in her pantry.

One thing led to the next and before she knew it, they'd rearranged the sofas in her living room and settled down on the rug, sitting on cushions and leaning against the couch. With only a couple of spoons, they dug into the ice cream and continued drinking the wine. Sakura was aware of the way Gaara kept refilling her glass but she was beyond caring. It was her house, after all; she could get drunk in her house whenever she wanted.

"I'm still amazed at how well you cook," Sakura commented, sipping on her wine.

The redhead shrugged at the compliment. "I promised myself back when I started college that I wouldn't starve to death. So I set out to learn the basics."

"That meal you just prepared wasn't basics," she said.

"Well, it's been a long time since college. I hope I have progressed somewhat since then," he admitted.

"Did you want to study business from the very start?" Sakura asked.

"More or less. I was never really clear on what it was I wanted to do in life. I sort of knew I wanted to make money and a business degree was the fastest way of getting there."

He proceeded to tell her all about his time at college. She laughed and felt sorry for his teachers; having him as a student must have been hell. Sakura wasn't sure if it was the wine or if he'd finally loosened up around her, but she found his personality a lot more tolerable than when she'd initially met him. Sure, his gruffness and egotism were still there; they were an integral part of him. Even so, from the things he was telling her, she guessed his haughty manner and biting tongue were the way he'd learned to look out for himself in the world.

Before she knew it, it was two in the morning.

"I should get going," Gaara said after watching her try to stifle a yawn.

Sakura scoffed. "Can you drive?"

He laughed mockingly at her. "I'm afraid to inform you that you drank down that second bottle of wine almost exclusively by yourself."

Pink eyebrows scrunched together as she surveyed the empty bottle on the floor next to them. "You're kidding."

He lifted his wineglass up to her; it was still half full and she didn't remember seeing him refilling it.

"You got me drunk on purpose!" she accused.

"No, I didn't. You got drunk by yourself," he replied.

"I'm not _that_ drunk."

"Of course you're not." His patronizing tone was almost too much for Sakura to bear.

She glared at him. "Well, you can't leave until you give me your cell phone number."

It was Gaara's turn to be surprised. "Excuse me?"

"I said you can't leave without giving me your number. I won't be subjected to what I suffered today ever again. I couldn't even call to scream at you!"

He blinked at her. "I guess you're right. But why I would want to give you my phone number so you can shout at me is beyond me."

"I was worried!" Sakura exclaimed, glaring at him. "When you didn't show up, I thought something had happened to you!"

Once more, the pink haired spitfire knocked the floor from under his feet.

She had been worried? It had never even crossed his mind for it to be possible. For her to be angry, yes. For her to want to maim him for being late, of course! But for her to worry over him? It was almost too much to believe.

Nonetheless, when he looked into her eyes, he knew she was telling the truth. Once more, the strange warm feeling that was becoming familiar around her filled his chest and he took out his phone without hesitation. He dialled her number and heard her own phone ring in the direction of her TV room.

"There," he said, hanging up. "You'll be able to store it now."

"Good!" Sakura said with a smug smile. "Now I can call and shout at you all I want."

"Don't push your luck," Gaara warned with a glaring look. "Do I have your permission to leave now? Or do you want me to carry you to bed and keep you company?"

She blushed up to the tips of her ears but was ready with a retort. "You wish! You'd better haul your rear out of here, buddy, before you get any more dumb ideas."

The redhead chuckled, standing up and helping her to do so in the process.

"Wait a minute, I take it back. You can't leave yet," she informed him. "You need to help me move the sofas back into place."

"I'm sorry but this visit isn't taking place during working hours," he replied.

She responded by swatting him in the face with a cushion.

Sakura's effort to try and help him put the couches back into their original position failed miserably. Her world started to spin when she bent down to try to push one of them and she decided against it. Gaara laughed mockingly at her, making remarks about her not being able to handle her wine.

"It was _your_ fault," she accused again. She picked up the glasses and the wine bottle and took them back to the kitchen. Gaara followed suit with the empty ice cream tub and the spoons.

"I'll leave the cleaning to you," he remarked snidely, placing them in the sink along with the other dirty dishes.

"You did the cooking, so fair's fair," Sakura replied, sticking her tongue out at him.

She walked him to the door and opened it for him. "So that's your car," she said, gesturing towards the Jeep.

He nodded. "I refuse to drive anything that's not a four by four."

"Ha! And he said he didn't need to drive around in a big car to feel good about himself."

He sneered at her. "No, I do that when I drive around in my work truck."

Sakura couldn't help but laugh at that.

"Thanks for the meal, again," she told him.

Gaara shrugged. "It was the least I could do for what happened."

"I assume I'll see you when you deliver my next piece of furniture," she said with a resigned look.

"You assume correctly."

He stood there on the threshold, regarding her thoughtfully.

"What?" she asked with a timid smile.

"Still no tip?" he countered. The mischievous expression on his face made him look like a very naughty cat.

Sakura laughed. "I haven't given you a tip even once, have I?"

"I'm beginning to feel terribly exploited," he stated with mock frustration.

"Fine," she replied. She stepped forward, stood on tiptoe and kissed him.

The feel of his lips sent a jolt down her spine that was intensified even more by all the wine she had drunk. All through the evening she'd admired his handsome features and her alcohol induced mind had wondered if he would try to kiss her at some point. The evening had dragged to its end and when he hadn't made the attempt, Sakura decided it was time to take things into her own hands.

Of course, when it came to Gaara, she always got more than what she bargained for.

He didn't waste any time in wrapping his arms around her, hauling her against his chest. With his height, it was easy for him to take control of the kiss and his tongue invaded her mouth with an intensity that was characteristic of him. It made Sakura's senses soar and all thoughts fled from her mind. Heat poured through her, swelling with each caress of his tongue. She lifted her hands and dug them into his hair, enjoying the havoc he was wreaking upon her to the fullest. His kiss became increasingly hungry, narrowing down her perception to the hard, masculine body she was being pressed against.

Sakura was floating in a cloud of pleasurable sensations. She never wanted to come down ever again. But even though there was wine pumping through her veins, she registered the moment when Gaara's hand lowered to the hem of her dress. She tried to pull back then but the sudden feel of his fingertips making their way up the back of her thigh made her jump. Without releasing her mouth, he chuckled, relishing in the uncontrollable shivers racing through her frame. He let his hand stay there while he continued to kiss her, fingers swirling in a soft caress. But when he tried to lift his hand even higher, his spitfire didn't allow it.

"What are you doing?" she demanded, pulling back from the kiss abruptly.

Trapped in his arms like she was, she couldn't go anywhere.

He smiled down into her lips. "What does it feel like I'm doing?"

Emerald eyes glared at him. "It feels like you're taking advantage of my semi-drunken state!"

He couldn't help it... he threw his head back and laughed. "Well, you were the one who started it."

"You were the one who asked for a tip," she countered. "It was meant to be only a quick kiss."

"For cooking you dinner?" he complained. "A quick kiss wouldn't have sufficed as a tip."

Her eyes narrowed. "You were _late_, which means you've had more than enough tip." She lowered her arm down to where his hand was resting against her thigh and pulled it away.

Gaara allowed her to do so, all the time regarding her with an impish smile. "Do I take it you prefer to give me a more thorough tip when you're not under the effects of too much wine?"

"I'll think about it," she replied arrogantly.

He lowered his head down again and kissed her once more, finally pulling back while capturing her lower lip between his teeth. "I'll look forward to my next delivery, then."

He pulled away and started walking toward his car.

Sakura stood in the doorway until he had driven off, trying to fight down the excited fluttery feeling in her tummy. Sure, she'd done something impulsive but she didn't regret it. Not after such a scorching kiss.

Somewhere in the back of her mind she remembered what she had told him, about him always screwing up with women. Breathing in deeply, she closed and locked her door. She refused to think about it now but one thing was perfectly clear.

For her sake, she hoped Gaara would prove Temari wrong.

* * *

Leave me your comments, guys!


	5. Failed Delivery Attempts

**A/N:** I bet this update was the last thing you expected.

As you might have guessed with my appalling lack of updates, I had certain issues with this chapter. I'd chucked out my initial idea and then found myself going around in vicious circles of half-assed creativity. In the end, the half written chapter came out of my recycle bin for the third and last time when I finally realized I should've followed my first instinct for the story all along. Sucks when you don't listen to yourself.

Also, I went over the fic's previous chapters and did some editing. Nothing major, though. Just corrected some typos and modified some sentences (grad school has turned me into a sentence structure nazi!) as well as some time frame incongruities that made me head desk. D: Sorry about that.

So now I leave you with this much anticipated chapter and cross my fingers for it to do alright.

~xxx~

_Oji_ – Uncle  
_Otooji_ – Uncle, parent's younger brother.  
_Kaasan_ – mother/mum

* * *

**Chapter V – Failed Delivery Attempts**

After spending a languid Sunday relishing the memories of his dinner with Sakura, Gaara was more than happy to walk into The Puppeteer on Monday morning. He had to admit his impromptu plan of cooking her dinner had worked flawlessly and the time he had spent in her company had been more than pleasant. Considering the final exchange they had shared on her doorstep, he was almost tempted to describe it as a perfect evening.

In the end it hadn't merited such a term because, if he'd had his way, the hand he'd sneaked under her skirt would've led them to more pleasurable interactions. But Sakura had been drunk, albeit her denying it with all she had, and Gaara knew he wouldn't get anywhere if he pushed her. He might have convinced her into taking him into her room but the odds were she would regret it the very next morning. The redhead preferred his women willing; it added so much more to the enjoyment of both parties involved and when it came to the pink haired doctor, enjoyment was high on his list of priorities. So making Sakura regret anything related with him was simply out of the question. Besides, from the looks of it, he would get a lot more chances to enjoy her in the future.

The way Sakura had initiated their kiss by herself was a testament to that. So he wasn't particularly worried. As a matter of fact, Gaara was greatly anticipating their next encounter. There were still two pieces of furniture that needed to be delivered to her residence and he would naturally be the one in charge of them. As a matter of fact, he was planning on leaving her deliveries for the end of the day so he could extend his visit at her house or take her somewhere.

He was going over the possibilities of spending some time with Sakura when he walked into Kankurou's workshop with his usually tardy fashion and came face to face with cruel reality.

Two children, a boy and a girl he knew very well, were sitting on the floor surrounded by discarded pieces of wood. There were some paints and brushes beside them and both were currently engaged in painting some of the wood with extravagant colours. Of course, the paint was ending up more on their clothes than on the wood itself but this fact didn't seem to faze them. Both wore a pair of old overalls suited for the task and were happily painting the time away.

Kankurou, who was sitting some distance away and working on a commission, glanced the kids' way every so often.

"Damn!" Gaara exclaimed by way of greeting, sliding his fingers through his hair in frustration. "I'd completely forgotten."

"I assumed as much," his brother replied from where he was working. "When you didn't show up for dinner last night, the three of us knew you'd forsaken us."

"Otooji!" the twins exclaimed in welcome, jumping up towards him.

Both of them had their mother's dark blond hair, cropped short for convenience's sake. Even though Nyoko's hair was a tad longer, her mother preferred to keep it from growing too long. Her children had inherited her thick and unruly hair, thus, she knew better than anyone else what a pain it was to keep it under control. It was the reason why she always wore it tied up.

The prominent trait they had inherited from their father, however, was his roguish violet eyes. It was the glinting look in their gaze that kept the kids' uncles in check more often than not. Hidan's impulsiveness and rashness would filter out in the most unsuspecting moments in the twins' personality and woe betide whoever it was who was taking care of them in that particular instant. Their father's genes would come to the fore, resulting in characteristic chaos and mayhem. The two of them, bright and quick witted as they were, could team up to become the dynamic duo from hell when it served their purpose.

Thus, to stay on the safe side, it was better to keep them separated; at least whenever possible. It was always better to take precautions than to regret things later, especially since their parents weren't around. Not that either of their uncles had any real problem when dealing with their niece and nephew. Kankurou, on the one hand, was renowned for his patience and doted on them. Both children adored him because he would make wooden puppets for them and tell them all kinds of marvellous stories. He also let them play in his workshop where they could get their hands on all kinds of interesting stuff. Gaara, on the other hand, was better known for his utter lack of patience and snapping temper, a fact the kids knew very well. If they stepped out line, there would be terrible consequences. Nonetheless, they loved their volatile uncle simply because he was 'cool'. He was the hip and young uncle who had no qualms about joining in their mischief, especially when it implied pulling a prank on Kankurou or their father. Their admiration for him was a given.

"Aren't you nagging runts supposed to be at day care?" the redhead asked grumpily, placing a hand on each of their heads and stopping them from running him over. Getting paint over his clothes was the last thing he wanted.

"Kaasan let us stay with Oji today," Nyoko informed him, "said we could help him in the workshop."

"We've been a lot of help, right Oji?" Kamlyn asked, turning towards Kankurou.

"Of course you have," their uncle replied with a wink, looking up from the piece of furniture he was working on.

Gaara was, naturally, not impressed. He thought he'd have to deal with the twins until after midday when they came back from childcare. Temari had conceded, in an attempt to make things simpler for her brothers, to have the kids attend day care every morning. They only went there twice a week but their uncles would greatly appreciate having quiet mornings, especially when they would have to deal with them during the rest of the day. Both Gaara and Kankurou had come up with the plan of keeping a twin each during the afternoon and evening. This way they would be a whole lot more manageable and their uncles would be able to maintain a grasp on their sanity. When by themselves, the kids were mostly composed and controllable, or as much as a three year old could be. Problems only surfaced when they were together and were allowed to come up with their devilish designs.

"Alright you two, how about you go clean your hands and we have a mid-morning snack?" Kankurou told them, putting down the tools he was using.

At the mention of food, the twins elicited all the predicted exclamations of joy and ran out towards the washroom.

"You said we'd only have to deal with them _after_ midday," Gaara complained.

"Yes I did," his brother replied. "But if you'd showed up yesterday like you said you would, I would've let you know that their mother allowed them to stay at the workshop today so they could better cope with their parent's absence."

Gaara's expression turned cynical. "Well, I'm afraid I had other more important things on my mind."

"Sure you did," Kankurou remarked wryly. "Even so, you can't avoid your responsibilities. So which one do you want? The she-devil or the hell-pup?"

Gaara groaned in frustration. "Do I have to choose?"

"Or would you rather have both?" his brother pressed, a mirthless grin on his lips.

"Fine, fine," the redhead said, relenting. He knew Kankurou had the worst part of it. The kids were staying at his place and he was the one who had to tuck them into bed and get them to eat breakfast. The least he could do was take one of the imps from him for a few hours. "I'll take the hell-pup. The she-devil will most likely end up giving me the cooties."

Kankurou laughed loudly. "The last thing I heard, you weren't at all adverse from making contact with the female population and risking cooties infection, especially when it comes to a certain pink haired doctor. You're rather risking a hell lot in regards to her, if you ask me."

Gaara's lips quirked up at the mention of Sakura. "Both you and I know that's completely different. The doctor, fortunately, is a woman grown."

"If you think the cooties are a condition limited only by age then you're in for a sad realization, little brother," Kankurou answered in mirth. "What do you think the smile that just popped unto your lips at the mention of the doctor is if not a symptom?"

Jade eyes narrowed and turned lethal in an instant. "I do not have the cooties."

This admission made his brother laugh out all the louder.

"What are you laughing about?" Nyoko asked, walking back into the room along with her twin.

"Your uncle is being a jackass," Kankurou answered with a wide smile.

"Really?" Kamlyn asked cheerily, "that's what kaasan usually says about dad."

This made the tattooed man burst into laughter all over again. "Did you hear that, Gaara? You're at the same level as Hidan!"

The redhead ground his teeth in annoyance. "Like hell I am!" he exclaimed.

The twins chuckling at him only made his irritation worse. The sooner he got out of there, the better.

"You!" he finally shouted curtly, pointing a finger at Kamlyn and silencing their twittering. "You're coming with me. We're going to be driving around on the truck and making deliveries."

Despite the gruff tone with which the order was delivered, it didn't stop his nephew from exclaiming happily at the prospect of driving around with his Otooji.

"While you and I," Kankurou said, kneeling down to wipe some paint off Nyoko's ear, "are going to stay in the workshop and get to build all kinds of stuff."

The little girl jumped up and down at the news, making it evident she didn't consider staying behind much of a loss.

"I'll pack the snack and an extra set of clothes for you," Kankurou told Gaara. "I think it's better for him to stay in those overalls for the time being, though."

"He'll get paint all over the truck," the redhead complained.

"Don't be silly," his brother reprimanded, "the paint's dry already."

Crouching down to make sure Kankurou's assessment about the paint was right, Gaara reluctantly proclaimed his nephew fit for travel.

In a matter of minutes, he was lifting the little boy into the truck and going over the list of the orders he had to drop off. While he did this, his nephew dug into the snack bag Kankurou had made for him and started munching on a pack of chocolate chip cookies.

By the time the redhead climbed into the driver's seat, there were crumbs all over the place and Kamlyn's hands were smeared with chocolate.

Gaara levelled him with one of his trademark glares. His nephew simply shrugged his shoulders.

"Don't forget these," Kankurou said, walking up to the truck and handing his brother a packet of wet-wipes through the window.

Gaara snatched it out of his hand roughly and snarled.

This was going to be one hell of a long day.

_- XXXXXXXX –_

After having successfully dealt with her hangover and recuperating from her impromptu drinking spree completely, Sakura was surprised to find no regrets filtering through her consciousness. As a matter of fact, she was becoming quite fond of replaying the events of the evening she had spent with Gaara in her mind. Whenever she remembered something particular, like the intimate way they had shared the ice cream tub or the way his warm lips had felt against hers, she couldn't help but fall into distraction.

It was a day-dreamy sort of distraction that prevented her from concentrating for long moments on anything. Thus, she had spent her entire Sunday pondering possible future scenarios concerning the redhead. The exercise left her in an anxious state of mind because she couldn't decide if their being together was a good thing or not.

_Who the hell understands you?_ Inner Sakura had remarked sardonically. _One moment you're giddy over the kiss you shared and the next you're freaking the hell out!_

'I just can't help it!' she had countered, 'you have to admit that our relationship, if you could call it that, isn't exactly conventional.'

_When has conventionality ever been high on your priorities?_ her inner persona replied.

Having no answer to the question, Sakura relented and admitted her inner voice was right. She had never been the kind of woman who worried about conventions of any sort. All along her amorous career, she had always let things play out as they would uncaring if she followed the rules or not. Her case with Gaara, it seemed, followed exactly along that trend.

Of course, when it came to the redhead, he took the term unconventionality to a whole new different level.

'The man warned me about his disastrous history with women,' Sakura thought with a groan. 'How am I not supposed to freak out about that?'

_True,_ Inner Sakura replied, _but hell, at least he gave you fair warning. How many other jerks have you've gone out with have ended up being idiots without so much as a peep out of them? The guy's being honest. You've got to give him that._

'It feels like I'm giving my heart up as a sacrifice to be eaten by an ogre,' the pink haired doctor admitted in despair.

And that was where the issue was. Somewhere along the line, between the bickering, the annoyance and the urges to wring the redhead's neck, Sakura's heart had somehow become involved in the whole thing. How it had happened she wasn't sure.

_I think it had something to do with the fact that he cooked you dinner. I mean, he pulled the whole 'the way to reach to a man's heart is through his stomach' scheme in complete reverse._

'I am not such a glutton as to be blackmailed with food!' Sakura countered indignantly.

_No, but he did get to you by actually doing all the cooking._

And once more, her inner person's assessment was accurate. Sakura couldn't remember when the last time a man had gone out of his way for her in such a manner had been. It was a rather sad prospect if you really thought about it, the utter lack of pampering in her life. She knew Gaara had made it clear he was making it up to her because he had been incredibly late but still. The man had actually _cooked_. If he had wanted to compensate for his tardiness, he could have just as easily taken her out to another restaurant or ordered take out. That was the usual way guys dealt with this sort of thing.

But then he had to take over her kitchen and come up with the best shrimp alfredo fettuccini she had tasted in her life.

In the short time she had known him he had once more left her reeling and unsure of where she was standing. And this was, admittedly, the whole objective of his campaign: to prove her wrong about her misconceptions in regards to his person.

The fact was the more she learned of him, the more she seemed to be pulled in. The intended effect on his part, no doubt.

_Even if you want to or not, you're already giving him the chance to prove himself,_ Inner Sakura remarked, _you did that when you let him walk through your door._

'And seemingly there's no going back,' Sakura thought grimly in reply. It was as if the most sceptic part of her was just waiting for him to screw up in some way, especially with his remarks about his romantic past.

But then he went on ahead and proved her wrong again by sending her a text message on Monday.

Gaara had promised he would be delivering her furniture and she was expecting him to show up at her door at some point or the other. But when he hadn't, he'd actually sent her a message and informed her there had been some delays that had prevented him from making it to her house. He'd try his best to make it the following day.

A squabbling text conversation had ensued, with her teasing him and saying any other delivery man would be more than qualified to deliver her stuff if he was busy elsewhere. He replied to this by remarking that, with the tendency she had of giving rather personal tips, he would be the _only_ man delivering _anything_ at her house. She had predictably swelled with indignation at his implication of her being a floozy and had countered accordingly by threatening to never tip him again. Their backbiting had gone back and forth for hours until it was time to go to bed, something she did with a huge smile on her face.

The next day, however, he didn't show up either, something that made her wonder just what he was up to. The redhead, much to her initial annoyance, had made it a point to actually seek her out and get her things delivered. But now it seemed there were more pressing matters calling his attention. Sakura inwardly wondered just what the egotistical Gaara would consider as 'more pressing matters'. Maybe he had finally gotten a job interview and was busy getting his career back on track. She had tried to ask him about the alleged delays when he had texted her again but had gotten sidetracked when he'd made a wry remark about the girly carvings on the coffee table she had ordered. It had been necessary to fall into another episode of intense bickering then and the question about what he'd been doing was left unasked.

Still, it wasn't something that was worrying her much. The redhead had made sure to let her know he was apologetic for not being able to get her furniture delivered and had been in touch with her, even if it was just through text. Sakura had also noticed how he tended to send her messages well after working hours, something that meant he was most likely very busy during the day.

This was just as well since she was busy with her small clients at the clinic too. There'd been a wave of flu hitting town for the past few days and many little ones had been affected. This meant her schedule had been full of small runny noses and sore throats.

It was finally on Wednesday afternoon, when she had just finished with her last appointment of the day, that her cell phone rang and Gaara's name showed up brightly on its screen. Sakura had to admit her heart had skipped a beat and she gave herself a moment to compose herself before answering.

She was behaving like an idiotic schoolgirl!

"Hello?"

"Sakura! Where are you?" Gaara asked in a harried voice.

The pink haired doctor instantly realized something was wrong. "I'm at the office. Why, what is it?"

"Good, I'll be there in a few minutes. It's an emergency," he replied hurriedly. From the sounds in the background, it seemed he was driving while he spoke on the phone.

"Gaara, what-" she started to ask but he had already hung up.

Dropping into her chair, she was left in a state of anxiousness as she wondered just what in the world could have happened for the usually stoic redhead to fret in such a way.

_- XXXXXXXX –_

Gaara cursed his damned luck. It was just predictable for something like this to happen to him. The fact that it was entirely his fault wasn't helping him cope with it any better.

After having dealt with the hell-pup for a couple of days, he was more than willing to exchange him for the she-devil. Kankurou had been happy to oblige and Gaara had taken Nyoko out on delivery with him. Having affirmed she would give him the cooties wasn't far from the truth: there was something about her large violet eyes that simply got to you. It was easy to fall under her spell and she knew it. She was by far the smarter of the two twins, having taken after her mother, and was undoubtedly the mastermind behind most of their schemes. She also knew how to put her skills to good use. Refusing her was next to impossible once she had you wrapped around her little finger. Hence, whenever Gaara found himself babysitting her, they would fall into a constant battle of wills. A contest he, much to his chagrin, found himself losing from time to time.

It wasn't that her demands were anything extraordinary, no. They usually revolved round things like coloured crayons, sparkly hair ties and gummy bear candy. Nonetheless, there was something completely wrong with the whole scenario. In Gaara's point of view, submitting to the whims of a three year old girl was a situation his manly pride could barely cope with. He had no idea how the hell she did it but she was an expert when exploiting his weaknesses.

The redhead guessed it had something to do with her being female. It had to be something girls were born with. Hence, the term cooties greatly applied.

It was precisely the reason why, after he had finished installing a kitchen cupboard for one of Kankurou's clients, he had nodded his head when Nyoko had volunteered to help carry some of the tools he'd used back to the truck. She'd been behaving really well all afternoon, keeping out of the way and playing by herself with her stuffed kangaroo. So he had no real argument to deny her offer to help. She'd probably been bored out of her wits but was doing her best to remain inconspicuous for her Otooji; especially since he'd bribed her with ice cream if she stayed out of sight during work. So, when his task was done and she'd approached him, he'd hesitated only slightly before giving her some of the lighter and harmless tools before starting to walk towards the truck with her.

On the way, he stopped to speak with the lady who had bought the cupboards and got her to sign his delivery papers. Glancing at Nyoko out of the corner of his eye, he finished dealing with the woman and then proceeded to head towards the driveway. That's when his ghastly luck had kicked in.

The little girl, instead of placing the things on the ground and waiting for her uncle, had decided to try to put them inside the back of the truck. It was, to his eyes, painfully obvious that she didn't reach but such a rational factor would never register when it came to three year old brains. She jumped up with the tool belt in her hand and tried to place it inside. As she did so, she dislodged a cutter that had been lying on the edge of the truck floor that Gaara had used earlier to cut some of the tape on the plastic wrappers of the cupboards. Fate guided the cutter directly towards her as it fell, catching her directly on the back of her outstretched hand.

The sight of blood trickling down her little wrist was an instant trigger for her tears.

The redhead was beside her in an instant, assessing the damage and trying to calm her. But that was just the problem: Nyoko didn't cry like other little children. She didn't wail at the top of her lungs like her brother, who took after their loud father, was wont to do. Tears would fill her large eyes and spill down her cheeks while her lips trembled in quiet little sobs. It was reminiscent of the few times Gaara had seen his sister cry and it did nothing to alleviate his guilt-ridden conscience.

He cleaned the wound as gently as he could and noticed that, even though the cut wouldn't have been much on an adult, on her small hand it seemed awful and deep. He picked her up and put her in the passenger seat, wrapping her hand in a handkerchief Kankurou had providently provided in the extra clothes bundle he'd packed for her. All this time, she hadn't said even one word in complaint and had only winced when he'd cleaned her up.

"I'm sorry, Otooji," she finally squeaked in a watery voice, "now you're going to be late with your deliveries."

Damn the girl for driving the nail exactly where it would hurt the most!

"Screw the deliveries!" he exclaimed, not minding his mouth around her. He figured that, having Hidan as her father, she was already immune to any kind of cursing, even at this young age. "We're going to get you patched up. We're going to give Dr. Haruno a call."

At the mention of her doctor, Nyoko managed to work up at smile. "We are?"

"Yes, she's going to make you all better," he assured her. "Just wait here while I get everything back in the truck."

Gaara did so in record timing and before long they were making their way towards Sakura's clinic. At least his luck rang true when he called the doctor and she was still in her office. He knew he'd startled her but he simply couldn't help it. She'd find out the reason behind his worry soon enough. A call to inform Kankurou that some of his clients would have to wait for their furniture because of what had happened was also adamant. In a similar fashion, the tattooed man couldn't care less about his clients when it was his niece's wellbeing that was on the line. The redhead would keep him posted as soon as Sakura looked Nyoko over.

Finally reaching the clinic, he left the truck in the adjacent parking lot and carried his niece in one arm towards the building's entrance. Her cheeks were smeared with tears and she was gripping her stuffed toy close to her with her uninjured hand but her crying had subsided. Still, the look of wilful determination in her violet eyes did nothing to abate his concern over the whole incident. Even though she was only three years old, she was doing her best not to let the pain show.

Why the hell did she have to be so much like her mother? It was something he couldn't comprehend. It was bound to give him a headache by the end of the day. If she would wail and cry loudly like a normal child, then he would have an excuse to snap at her. But no; she had to keep quiet and bear it, making him feel even worse over the whole thing. Curse the day Temari decided to have children to whom she could inherit her obstinacy!

Furious at his sister for giving birth to a little clone of herself and furious at himself for letting her get hurt on his watch, he stormed into the clinic. The receptionist he'd seen last time was sitting behind the front desk, and as he approached, her eyes blinked in recognition. She was about to say something but Gaara didn't give her a chance. He kept walking and passed the desk, heading towards the interior of the clinic and Sakura's office.

Hinata was once again left to wonder about the man, especially since he'd shown up with a little girl in his arms this time around. Who was he? Even though he'd gone by in a blur, the dark haired woman was sure the child had seemed familiar. She made it a point to question Sakura more thoroughly about it.

Reaching the inner waiting room, Gaara saw Sakura's door was wide open and stepped inside without ceremony.

The doctor was rearranging some files with a worried look in her eyes but when she saw the redhead's grim expression and Nyoko's weepy face, she dropped the papers in her hands and turned hurriedly towards them.

"What happened?" she asked without any preliminaries.

"Dr. Haruno," the little girl sniffed in greeting. "I-"

But her uncle interrupted. "She cut her hand," he cut in gruffly. "She was with me making deliveries and a cutter accidentally fell on her hand."

Sakura narrowed her eyes at him as she silently signalled for him to place Nyoko on the examination table. "And why was a cutter in her general vicinity at all?" she asked accusingly.

Gaara snapped at her. "It wasn't anywhere within her reach! But she just had to attempt to put the tools inside the truck despite the obvious fact that she's a midget. She dislodged the damned cutter when she jumped and it fell right on top of her."

Nyoko sobbed quietly but refrained from saying anything.

Emerald eyes glared at the redhead for adopting such a brusque tone around his afflicted niece.

"Don't worry sweetheart," she said, turning to Nyoko, "I'm going to make it all better, alright? You don't have anything to worry about. Since your uncle needs a moment to bring his misdirected temper back under control, you can tell me all that happened while I examine your hand."

Gaara opened his mouth to remonstrate but Sakura would have none of it. "Sit," she ordered, pointing towards one of the chairs in front of her desk.

He snarled at her but, given the circumstances, he did as he was told.

While Sakura untied the handkerchief around the little girl's hand, Nyoko went ahead and gave her version of the events her uncle had just uncouthly described. "I just wanted to help Otooji," she finished, "he'd been working really hard."

At the words, the pink haired doctor lifted the cotton with which she was cleaning the girl's hand and glared at the redhead, as if daring him to refute Nyoko's claim.

He simply leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, and propped his chin on his twined hands. Now that he'd been able to get his niece to the clinic and she would receive medical attention, his swirling anger at the situation was finally starting to abate. Still, this didn't prevent him from pinning Sakura with a deadly glare.

But the doctor, having been on the receiving end of that glare numerous times, now knew how to read past it. There was genuine concern for the little girl in its depth and the anger was only a manifestation of the powerless he must have felt at seeing her in anguish. Of course, Gaara would rather throw himself off a bridge than admit as much.

Sakura shook her head. She wasn't dealing with a single child here... she was dealing with two!

"Alright, luv," she said, bringing up Nyoko's hand for a better look. "You're lucky it's a clean cut. It's not too deep but you'll need a couple of stitches."

"Stitches?" the little girl asked, unsure of what the word meant.

"Yup," Sakura replied. "Have you seen how clothing can be mended with a needle and string? Well, something similar can be done with skin."

Nyoko blinked. "Really?" her tone expressed more fascination than horror at the prospect.

Gaara found himself wondering for the umpteenth time why his niece couldn't be normal. Any other kid would be running straight for the door at having a needle piercing their skin to put it back together. Then again, his family had never been known for being average. They were all rather out of the ordinary, each in their own personal way. And when you added the eccentric Hidan to the mix, he guessed Nyoko had had absolutely no chances of being born a normal girl whatsoever.

"It won't hurt, though," Sakura continued to explain. "I'll be putting a special spray on your hand that'll take the pain away. Have you even had your foot fall asleep? Well, the spray will make you feel something similar to that but with no pins and needles involved."

"Wow," the girl remarked, "that spray must be really useful."

The pink haired doctor laughed. "You bet it is! Now c'mon, I'll call up the nurse and take you to the room where we keep the needles and special string."

She picked the girl up and carried her towards the door.

"What about Otooji?" Nyoko asked.

Sakura turned round to survey him with a calculating glance. "He can bring your stuffed kangaroo and sit in the waiting room."

"Like hell I'm leaving her alone!" Gaara exclaimed, standing up abruptly and snatching the toy from the examination table.

The doctor chuckled at his fiery reaction. "Well, well, such a devoted uncle. What do you think Nyoko, do you want him to come with us?"

"Yes," his niece replied happily, smiling at him.

The sight made him breathe out deeply. The devious girl really knew how to press his buttons.

"Alright," Sakura conceded, walking out the door, "he can hold your other hand while I patch you up, then."

"Otooji doesn't like to hold hands with girls," came the guileless reply.

The doctor blinked. "He doesn't?"

"No," the girl went on before Gaara could silence her, "he says it'll give him the cooties."

Sakura's loud laughter resounded throughout the entire clinic.

* * *

Gaara-otooji, I have to say, was very entertaining to write. It's like having a kid taking care of a kid. LOL.

Leave your comments at the door!


	6. The Coffee Table

**A/N:** Yes well, this was looooong overdue. Sorry about that. This chapter had been sitting in my files, more than half finished for a few months. :'D But finally, it's here.

I'm glad to hear you guys have been enjoying the twins and Gaara's interaction with them. When I initially decided to bring them into the game, I wasn't sure of how it would work out. It makes me happy to see I haven't been doing such a bad job.

Thanks for your support guys and hope you enjoy this!

* * *

**Chapter VI – The Coffee Table**

Gaara wasn't what one could call a feeble man. On the contrary, he had always been known for his wilfulness and strength of character. Many would, in fact, describe his personality as downright impossible. He faced life with a powerful forward momentum backed up by his fiery personality and temper. There were very few things in life that would make him back down.

Sadly, to his great mortification, facing two conniving and lofty females at the same time was one of these things; especially when they were greatly fond of each other and presented a tendency of forming solid alliances against his person. Age differences didn't matter in this kind of arena. Both of them being female the determining factor in this circumstance.

The first, with her steel personality and waspish tongue, wasn't afraid of standing up to him. She'd evidenced enough backbone in his past encounters with her to let him clearly know she would never be the wilting sort of female. It was the main reason why he was attracted to her so much. The second, with her candid violet eyes and soft baby cheeks, wasn't your average little girl. She was too smart for her years and stubborn like her mother to boot. The day's events had made this last amazingly clear. The injury of her hand would now give her great leverage in her favour with which to deal with him. In other words, she had her uncle in her pocket and the little she-devil knew it.

There was only one way out: he would have to separate them. Preferably, he'd be able to do this by keeping the first and getting rid of the second. He had pending business with the first. It involved certain pleasurable physical interactions that, unfortunately, couldn't be performed in front of the second. But to be able to engage in such enjoyable activities he would have to act smartly and not arouse any kind of suspicion.

In an attempt to appease both female dispositions, ice cream had been in order. There was an ice cream shop about two blocks away from Sakura's clinic and Gaara wasted no time in steering both of them in its direction. Predictably, neither of them presented much resistance to the idea. After a strawberry parfait and a chocolate sundae had been dispersed, the mood had become much more amiable and manageable.

"I really should be getting her back," the redhead commented, eyeing his niece as she finished eating the last of her strawberries. By some stroke of luck, the cutter had injured her left hand instead of her right; Gaara had thanked whatever Gods had been watching for that small mercy. Having Nyoko completely impaired during meals would've been close to a nightmare. Her manipulative skills would've gone through the roof if that had been the case. Never one to deny any pampering aimed her way, Nyoko would've made sure both her uncles grovelled at her feet while using her injured hand as blackmail. Not that this wasn't going to be the case anyway... still, her being able to feed herself was something positive.

"The excitement of the day will most likely hit her sooner than later," Sakura replied with a nod. "I wouldn't be surprised if she nods off on you in the car."

"She just ate an entire sundae," Gaara pointed out with a dry tone.

The doctor smiled at his mortified expression. "True but then her sugar crash will be all the worse."

"Otooji," Nyoko interrupted, "I need to use the bathroom."

The redhead sighed, giving Sakura a pleading look. To his satisfaction, it appeared his ice cream pacifier had worked its magic because she laughed out loudly.

"I'll take her," Sakura offered with a condescending nod. "Come on Nyoko, it seems your uncle believes there's a higher risk of cootie infection if he helps you pee."

Then again, maybe it hadn't.

Gaara ground his teeth and glared as the two females stood up from the table and made their way towards the toilets at the back of the shop. He heard Nyoko's giggles at Sakura's comment until the door shut firmly behind them.

It seemed there were hideous crimes he'd committed in a past life he was paying for in full in this life.

By the time they were done, he was standing outside waiting for them, impatient to get moving.

"I'll get her back to The Puppeteer," he told Sakura, leaning down to pick up Nyoko before crossing the street. "Kankurou said he'd wait for us there since I need to leave the truck anyway."

Momentarily distracted with watching the traffic, he didn't catch the amused look in the doctor's eyes at his unconsciously protective gesture. Much to Sakura's surprised enjoyment she didn't fail to notice how he didn't put the little girl down once they reached the sidewalk on the other side. Nyoko, it seemed, was aware of this as well but seemed rather content to be travelling in her uncle's arms. Clutching her stuffed kangaroo and resting her injured hand on his shoulder, her violet eyes sparkled as she aimed a large grin Sakura's way.

The doctor found herself returning it.

"Are you going to be home later tonight?" Gaara asked.

Blinking rapidly to regain her focus on the conversation, Sakura nodded her head. "Yeah, I'll be in. Why?"

"I'll pick up your coffee table at the shop and go back to your house. I'm aware I've had that delivery pending for days," he replied.

"Indeed, I was contemplating about making an official complaint with your brother" she remarked with narrowed eyes. "But how are you going to deliver the table if you have to leave the truck at the store?" she inquired.

"If I put the backseat down, it should fit in my Jeep without any problem."

"Oh, alright then," she replied before the look in her face turned wily. "So, you're going to be working after hours for me?" she finished in a deviously sweet tone.

He aimed a haughty look her way. "It's the least I can do for you after patching the she-devil up."

"Don't call her that!" Sakura exclaimed.

"She knows very well what she is," he countered, turning a wry look at his niece. She returned his glance with a beaming smile, as if confirming his statement.

The doctor only shook her head at their exchange.

By the time she was waving goodbye at the entrance of the clinic, and after setting an hour for Gaara to come over, a myriad of thoughts were crowding inside her head and threatening to make it burst.

It seemed no matter what he did, the redhead had an endless supply of surprises. But unlike all their past encounters, this last had definitely not been planned on his part. She remembered thinking not long ago of how wretched the twins surely were at having the temperamental Gaara as their uncle; but now, after everything she'd witnessed, she had to admit she had to take her words back.

It was against his nature to be openly affectionate and he certainly didn't have much patience. Nonetheless, the fondness he felt towards his niece (and most likely her brother as well) was certain. He might express it through curses, glares and gruff treatment but the sentiments were there all the same. The interaction between him and Nyoko had shed a revealing light in regards to Gaara's personality: the more he liked the person, the brusquer he behaved towards them. This forced Sakura to look at her growing relationship with the redhead from a completely different perspective.

She'd certainly had nothing but bad-tempered treatment from him from the very beginning!

Wondering at this sudden revelation and not sure of how exactly it affected their connection, she turned around and walked into the clinic.

As luck would have it, Hinata was waiting in ambush for her. Or well, as much as the quiet woman could waylay anyone.

"That was Temari-san's daughter, wasn't it?" she asked from behind her desk, her silver eyes gracing Sakura with an inquiring look.

"Yes, it was," Sakura replied, knowing her intention very well but not minding in the least. As a matter of fact, she suddenly thought that talking about her current situation with someone might do her some good. It'd help to get her thoughts in order at least.

"And who's the redhead?" Hinata asked, smiling as she watched Sakura walk up to her desk and pull up an adjacent chair.

"Her cursedly handsome uncle," was her resigned reply.

"Want me to get some coffee?" the silver eyed woman perceptibly asked.

"Yes, please," Sakura admonished. For this conversation, she was definitely going to need it.

_- XXXXXXXX –_

"You planned this from the beginning, didn't you?" she asked in what she hoped sounded like irritation.

The devilish redhead only chuckled, lifting up the beer he had in his hand up to his lips.

They were sitting in her living room, her recently delivered coffee table before them, eating barbecue wings out of a large bucket. The food had been accompanied by a six-pack of beers that, according to Gaara, was the only appropriate drink that could accompany chicken wings of any kind. Sakura had to admit he was right; the whole barbecue sauce and beer combination was rather tasty.

He'd shown up at her door an hour before, freshly showered and dressed, with the food in his hands. There was this sports bar that made the best wings in the city in his opinion and he'd wanted to eat some for a while but hadn't been able to because of work. Thus, he'd wasted no time in making a pit stop on the way to Sakura's.

As she held the bags in her arms while he retrieved her coffee table from his car, Sakura had wondered if he was always going to show up with food whenever he knocked on her door. Not that she minded but still, she'd have to pump up her exercise routine if he was going to keep this up.

Gaara brought the coffee table inside and placed it on the living room carpet, arranging it as Sakura instructed. After he was done, he took the food and beer from her hands and placed them on the table. As he straightened up, the doctor was going to suggest they get some napkins but was cut rather short. Gaara pulled her towards him and pressed his lips to hers in a fiery kiss, making her mind reel with its unexpectedness. The sudden contact made her realize how much she'd craved to kiss him again and she found herself returning his ministrations with delight.

They pulled apart after what seemed a long time, both breathing rapidly. But then Gaara grinned at her in that arrogant manner of his, as if bragging about the effect he'd had on her. She was obliged to swat him on the arm and to stomp into the kitchen for the napkins. Once there, she thought twice about it and decided on the paper towels instead. Eating chicken wings dipped in sauce was always a messy deal and she wasn't about to let her coffee table get dirty when it had just arrived. So she returned with the paper towels and plates.

He was already sitting on the floor, his back against the couch and an opened beer in his hands. For a moment, Sakura had to force herself to stop and deal with the effect such a sight had on her. He looked every bit like he belonged there and her treacherous heart had leapt at the possibility of his presence being a constant in her house.

A few wings and a beer later, she realized him being beside her like this was something she really could get used to.

"How's Nyoko doing?" she asked, fishing inside the bucket for another chicken wing.

"She was perfectly fine when I left her. Of course, Kankurou will now proceed to spoil her silly. She'll be insufferable for the next few days," he said with a tinge of disgust.

"Well, she deserves it for being so brave," Sakura replied.

"For being so stubborn, you mean," he countered. "She gets if from her pig-headed mother, I'm afraid."

Gaara proceeded to give her a rundown of the traits of the members of his family, going a bit into their history and how along with Kankurou and Temari, he had more or less been forced to make his way in life without any parental guidance. Sakura had known some of the details about their past, courtesy of Temari having so much trust in her as a paediatrician, but hearing it from Gaara's lips was altogether different. She found herself empathizing with him and sharing some of her experiences with him as well.

Like last time, the hours passed without them really noticing until the redhead finally caught Sakura trying to stifle a yawn.

Draining what was left of his beer, he stood up. "You should've told me you were tired."

Her sleepy smile belied her words. "Nah, I'm not that drained. I usually go to bed much later than this."

His jade eyes surveyed her critically, making it clear he wasn't exactly convinced. Without a word, he swooped down and picked her up, garnering a surprised squeak from her.

"Gaara, what the hell are you doing?" she exclaimed.

"Making sure you go to bed."

"I can go to bed all by myself, thank you very much!" she countered hotly.

His noncommittal grunt was as infuriating as any words he might've thrown her way. But he had already traversed through her house, passing the TV room and making it to her bedroom.

"I'd forgotten you didn't have a bed yet," he commented after he switched on the lights, cocking his head at the queen sized mattress lying on the floor.

"How could you have forgotten that? You're the one who's supposed to be delivering it!" she retorted vehemently.

In response, he bent over the mattress and threw her on top of it. She landed with a squeal and a bounce, emerald eyes looking mutinous.

He grinned at her before crawling on knees and hands on the mattress next to her. "It's later than you think," he told her, "It's already past midnight."

Her surprised expression confirmed his suspicions of her having no idea it was really so late. Coming up next to her, he brought down his face close to hers, their noses almost touching. "You should go to sleep."

Sakura glared at him. 'As if I'd be able to sleep with you here!' she thought furiously. His overbearing manner was almost too much for her to bear. "I'm not sleepy," she answered out loud.

"Liar," he replied with an amused tone. He bent his head down, capturing her lips in what once again proved to be a scorching kiss. Sakura vaguely wondered just where the hell he'd learned to kiss like that but decided she honestly did not want to hear the answer.

She was happily immersed in a hazy cloud of delicious heat when he pulled back. Jade eyes looked down at her face intently, as if assessing his next move. The desire in their depths was unmistakable and it made Sakura's eager heart increase its already frantic pace. She was expecting him to capture her lips once again and for him to lower his body unto hers, trapping her under his muscular weight. Something inside her was begging him to do so and she knew very well that if he decided to steer them both in that direction, she would be unable to deny him anything. Her skin was tingling with anticipation already and the heat was starting to swirl in her veins.

But his objective, like he'd told her from the very beginning, was to prove her wrong. The surprise in her eyes was genuine when he grinned, dipped his head for one last kiss and then suddenly stood up from the mattress.

"I meant it when I said you should get some sleep", he said, looking down at her arrogantly.

She blinked at him, unsure of what was happening. Gaara, noticing her confusion and knowing very well what it was that she'd expected from him, chuckled lightly before turning around and heading towards the door.

"I'll deliver that bed of yours as soon as I can," he said over his shoulder, "I have a feeling we'll be needing it soon."

With a final salute, the redhead made his way towards the front door.

Sakura gaped after him, not being able to believe what her eyes were telling her. Like the domineering despot that he was, he had carried her to bed and not only ordered her to sleep, but he'd high-handedly denied her the physical release he'd been happily igniting in her body moments before. Not only had he shrugged off the increasing tension between then, he'd had the audacity to actually _walk out_ on her.

It was unheard of.

At sound of his Jeep pulling out of her driveway, Inner Sakura decided it was time for her to butt in.

_Well, if you think about it, he did play his cards right._

'I beg your pardon?' Sakura asked indignantly.

Her inner voice chuckled, a blatant imitation of the redhead's previous dark amusement. _He's got you where he wants you. It's blatantly obvious that you'll have nothing else on your mind for the rest of the night. Your thoughts and dreams can only have one possible direction now._

Sakura gritted her teeth. 'And am I to understand that you have no objection with that whatsoever?'

_Of course not_.

As if to prove her point, Inner Sakura proceeded to fill her mind with numerous images of Gaara in various states of undress and in all types of locations in her house. One particular vision of him wearing nothing but boxers while he rummaged through the cupboards of her kitchen looking for breakfast had a rather peculiarly intense effect on her. Especially when she imagined all those lovely back muscles stretched out as he reached up for a cereal box on one of the top shelves.

She groaned.

Inner Sakura cackled.

Grabbing a pillow and throwing it over her face, Sakura realized she was in for a very long night.

_- XXXXXXXX –_

"I have to say," Kankurou admitted reluctantly, "you handled that pretty well."

Gaara turned to look at him with a suspicious glance but didn't manage to detect any sort of sarcastic undertone in his brother's words.

They were both standing in the doorway to the twins' present bedroom. The guestroom of Kankurou's house had been turned into a sort of nursery ever since the kids were big enough for sleepovers at their uncle's home. Of course, being who he was, the tattooed-faced man had wasted no time in furnishing the room for the twins. He'd expertly crafted a bunk-bed, decorated with carvings of all sorts of animals, just for his niece and nephew. Not only that but the closet's doors also sported similar decorations, as did the shelves where their toys were stored.

Temari said her brother spoiled her children silly but there had been a teary look in her eyes when she'd seen the room he'd come up with. Gaara just thought Kankurou was exteriorising his up-to-the -moment frustrated urges of being a father and that, in a nutshell, he had lost his mind. Nonetheless, in front of his enthusiastic brother and sister, he'd wisely kept his opinion to himself.

"Well, I didn't have much of a choice did I?" the redhead finally answered gruffly, "I couldn't just leave her there, bleeding and crying." As he spoke, he gestured with his head towards the sleeping girl in the top bunk-bed. Nyoko was sleeping soundly, clutching her stuffed kangaroo in one arm while her bandaged hand lay on her pillow next to her head.

"No, but you could have very well... you know... panicked", Kankurou remarked, eyeing his brother out of the corner of his eye. He knew it was dangerous to tease the redhead but given the circumstances, it was impossible to resist.

"I _never_ panic," Gaara answered vehemently.

"Of course not, that's exactly what I'm saying," his brother replied with a grin.

The redhead decided he didn't like the smile on Kankurou's face and was sorely tempted to wipe it off with some sort of violent gesture.

But just as the thought emerged, Gaara realized his prickly demeanour was not entirely due to his brother's banter but to the intensely tiring day he'd had. He let out a deep breath as he felt the exhaustion fall on his shoulders like a lead weight.

Kankurou seemed to sense his mood and shook his head at his stubborn baby brother. He'd called and insisted on coming over to see Nyoko; but no matter how much the tattooed man tried to tell him she was already asleep, the redhead simply wouldn't listen. So here he was, tired and in a bristly mood but feeling responsible for the girl all the same.

"You should get some rest," he told him for the fifth time since he'd arrived, "she'll be perfectly fine. I already told you I'll be the one to tell Temari all about it tomorrow when she calls."

Gaara at least had the decency to look grateful. After the day's events he was definitely not looking forward to informing his sister of the accident. He couldn't have prevented Naoko from getting hurt but at least he had reacted appropriately; he could always be counted on in an emergency. Of course, having Sakura on his side had been a godsend. Temari would have nothing to complain about and Gaara was sure the doctor would vouch for him in his exemplary role as an uncle.

That was what the ice cream had been partly about. He had to have his back covered in every possible way. There was no way he would risk getting on Temari's bad side... or well, more than he already was. At least she wouldn't be able to say that his budding relationship with Sakura wasn't convenient. He'd been able to call her directly when he'd needed her assistance thanks to their growing bond. Somehow, in a weird kind of way, Nyoko's little accident had helped him somewhat in his pursuit of proving his sister wrong.

Moreover, he had to concede, things with Sakura had been progressing nicely. They were already at a point where they functioned naturally around each other without any of that initial awkwardness that tended to happen with recent acquaintances. As a matter of fact, after the day's events, he could safely say they functioned quite efficiently as team. Even if she had behaved a tad more domineering than he liked and had clearly showed her superiority when it came to dealing with kids; but since treating children was her specialized field, Gaara knew there had been no room to complain... at least overmuch. So he'd let her remarks slide and decided to make her pay for them later. Something he was sure was happening at the moment.

Just remembering the way he'd left her in her bed and the look in her eyes when he'd gotten up andwalked away brought a sly grin to his lips. He was certain there would be some sort of retaliation from her part the next time they saw each other.

"Do you want something to drink or eat?" Kankurou offered, bringing Gaara's attention back to the present.

"No, I already had something," he replied as he turned to follow his brother away from the twins' bedroom and towards the kitchen.

"By the way, I'd been meaning to ask," the tattooed man remarked as he looked through his fridge, "how's the job hunting going?"

Sitting down heavily on one of the kitchen stools, Gaara let out a derisive noise. Trust his brother to want to talk about the one part of his life that was doing horribly. He'd managed to avoid thinking about it for a few days and with Sakura providing a distraction, it hadn't been all that difficult.

"Nothing," he replied, his voice devoid of emotion. "I haven't gotten a single email back."

The orange juice carton in his hand, Kankurou blinked back at him. "What do you mean?" he asked, perplexed. "Not even a single reply?"

"Not one."

There was a long moment of charged silence between the two of them.

"But that's impossible," the tattooed man finally said. "Someone's bound to want to hire you. You've got a really good CV and there's bound to be at least an assistant's job somewhere."

Gaara snorted. "I'd rather die than be someone's assistant but I do agree with you in that there are a number of jobs for me out there. I've sent out at least ten applications, some of them in answer to ads I've seen."

"And no one replied?" Kankurou asked once more, not liking what his brother was telling him.

Gaara shook his head in answer.

"But that means-"

"Yes, it means someone's boycotting my attempts to get a decent job in this city," the redhead interrupted, his voice laced with venom. "And it's quite easy to guess who that person is."

Kankurou's shoulders slumped. He reached up towards a nearby shelf for an empty glass and started pouring some orange juice for himself. "You really did make Tohru hate you, didn't you?"

"Well, since I did call him an incompetent idiot to his face and exposed some of the crooked deals he was making, I can't say I blame him. I'm afraid I made him lose a lot of money and that can never lead to anything positive."

"So now he wants your head in a platter," Kankurou concluded.

"I'm afraid so. But in all honesty, even though he has loads of strings he can pull, I can't say I'm scared of him," Gaara replied nonchalantly. "I'm certain he intimidated a number of firms to keep them from hiring me, threatening to cut ties with them if they dared so much as to grant me an interview. But there are some companies out there who won't bow their head to his bullying."

"And you're counting on them to step up to the plate?"

"Indeed," the redhead said. "I already sent some of them a few applications."

Kankurou groaned. "But they didn't answer."

Gaara shrugged his shoulders. "It's too soon to tell. Those were the last applications I sent and I only did so a couple of days ago. I'm still waiting to see if they've got the balls to beat Tohru at his own game."

"You really don't know how to leave well off alone, do you?"

"The asshole's trying to bring me down," the redhead replied, his jade eyes hard. "It's not something I'm likely to forget anytime soon."

Kankurou sighed. "Well, I certainly wish you luck with that. It's not that I don't like you working at The Puppeteer, I just know you'd be happier doing your own thing."

"Like bringing down corrupt corporations and crushing them with my fist?" Gaara asked with a malicious glint in his eyes.

"Yes," his brother assented with a defeated look. He wasn't sure if sending his brother out into the finance world again boded well for his fellow businessmen but at least it meant the redhead would be back where he belonged.

"But in the meantime, you'll just have to put up with me," Gaara replied as he got up from the stool and stretched. "Which reminds me, Sakura's bed is due one of these days, isn't it?"

Kankurou narrowed his eyes at him. "Yes, it's supposed to be done by the beginning of next week. We ran out of the special varnish I use so we had to wait for new supplies to arrive."

"Good," Gaara replied, "just make sure you let me know when it's done."

"I have a mind to forget you asked that and have someone else deliver it," Kankurou remarked snidely. "Besides, it's not like it'll be in one piece. You'll have to put it together once you're at her house."

"After all this time you doubt my skills as a handyman?" Gaara asked smugly.

His brother snorted in reply.

But the redhead just grinned all the wider. "What's more, you can't rob me of the chance of testing your craftsmanship."

"Testing?" Kankurou asked.

"Well yes, as soon as I've got it assembled, the doctor and I can see if the bed you've made can withstand a rough tumble between the shee-"

I do _not_ want to know!" Kankurou exclaimed, bring his hands up to cover his ears. "There are children within earshot!"

Gaara sniggered. "They're fast asleep. Besides, the sooner they know of these things, the bigger advantage they'll have in life."

"Try telling that to their mother! You truly are incorrigible," his brother replied, pinching the bridge of his nose.

The redhead looked even more amused. It was so easy to ruffle Kankurou's feathers.

His eyes suddenly fell on the microwave clock and he felt the exhaustion pull down on his shoulders once more. "I'd better get going," he replied after a moment, "I'm afraid dealing with bleeding children and bossy doctors has taken its toll on me."

"Yes, I told you to go get some rest ages ago," Kankurou shot back. "I dread to imagine at what time you're going to come into the shop tomorrow if you don't go to sleep now. You always use any kind of excuse to be late!"

Gaara shrugged off his complaint and started walking out. "You have to admit that if I'm late tomorrow, I'll have the best kind of excuse."

"And what's that?"

"I expended all my energies in playing hero for your niece," he countered. With that, the redhead waved casually over his shoulder and headed towards the front door.

Kankurou snorted at this reply but as he heard the car door open and close, he knew the redhead was right. If Nyoko and Kamlyn usually worshipped their younger uncle, after this little fiasco their esteem of Gaara would most likely fly through the roof; especially where Nyoko was concerned.

He chuckled softly, knowing very well Gaara was unaware of his actions having an unintended side effect. If he kept playing the part of hero, no matter how gruff he was, Nyoko's hero worship would be guaranteed for life. And wouldn't Kankurou have the time of his life when she hit puberty and turned to her cool and awesome uncle when she wanted something... especially when it came to boys. Gaara had said that the sooner they knew about sex, the better. Kankurou was certain those words would come back and bite him in the rear in a few years.

Throwing his head back and laughing loudly, the tattooed man had never looked forward to the future so much. He was bound to be highly entertained by his brother's antics when it came to their niece in times to come.

* * *

Reviews, like always, are more than welcome. :3


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